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acted already appeared beauty became began Bible born brilliant called Cambridge century CHAPTER character Charles chief Church close College coloured common court death deep died early Edinburgh England English eyes fame father four genius give hand head heart Henry History honour Illustrative Italy James John kind King Lady land language later Latin learned letters light lines literary literature lived London Lord master mind nature never night noble noted Oxford passed play poem poet poetry political poor printed prose published Queen received rich round royal scene seems Shakspere soon SPECIMEN spent story style sweet things Thomas thought took translation turned verse volumes writer written wrote young
392. oldal - Dark-heaving; boundless, endless, and sublime, — The image of Eternity, the throne Of the Invisible : even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made ; each zone Obeys thee ; thou goest forth, dread, iathomless, alone.
378. oldal - ... little did I dream that I should have lived to see such disasters fallen upon her in a nation of gallant men, in a nation of men of honour, and of cavaliers. I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards to avenge even a look that threatened her with insult. But the age of chivalry is gone. That of sophisters, economists, and calculators, has succeeded; and the glory of Europe is extinguished for ever.
350. oldal - Is not a patron, my lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man struggling for life in the water, and, when he has reached ground, encumbers him with help ? The notice which you have been pleased to take of my labours, had it been early had been kind ; but it has been delayed till I am indifferent, and cannot enjoy it ; till I am solitary. and cannot impart it; till I am known, and do not want it.
446. oldal - Ye Ice-falls! ye that from the mountain's brow Adown enormous ravines slope amain Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge! Motionless torrents! silent cataracts! Who made you glorious as the Gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? GOD! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, GOD!
324. oldal - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn Or busy housewife ply her evening care : No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke ; How jocund did they drive their team afield ! How...
148. oldal - Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? Or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
189. oldal - For so have I seen a lark rising from his bed of grass, and soaring upwards, singing as he rises, and hopes to get to heaven, and climb above the clouds : but the poor bird was beaten back with the loud sighings of an eastern wind, and his motion made irregular and inconstant — descending more at every breath of the tempest, than it could recover by the...
210. oldal - What matter where, if I be still the same And what I should be, all but less than he Whom thunder hath made greater...
391. oldal - His steps are not upon thy paths, thy fields Are not a spoil for him, — thou dost arise And shake him from thee; the vile strength he wields For earth's destruction thou dost all despise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray And howling, to his gods, where haply lies His pretty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth: — there let him lay.
363. oldal - It was on the day, or rather night, of the 27th of June 1787, between the hours of eleven and twelve, that I wrote the last lines of the last page in a summer-house in my garden. After laying down my pen, I took several turns in a berccau, or covered walk of acacias, which commands a prospect of the country, the lake, and the mountains.