Literary Leaves; Or, Prose and Verse Chiefly Written in India, 1. kötetW.H. Allen & Company, 1840 |
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1 - 5 találat összesen 35 találatból.
. oldal
... tion to me in this state of exile , that I am still able to continue even so imperfect an interchange of thought and sentiment as is afforded by epistolary converse ; and whatever may be the fate of my humble literary efforts , I must ...
... tion to me in this state of exile , that I am still able to continue even so imperfect an interchange of thought and sentiment as is afforded by epistolary converse ; and whatever may be the fate of my humble literary efforts , I must ...
5. oldal
... tion , ' says Metastasio , ' the nerves of my sensorium are put into a violent tumult ; I grow red as a drunkard , and am compelled to quit my work . ' Beattie dared not correct the proofs of his Essay on Truth , because he anticipated ...
... tion , ' says Metastasio , ' the nerves of my sensorium are put into a violent tumult ; I grow red as a drunkard , and am compelled to quit my work . ' Beattie dared not correct the proofs of his Essay on Truth , because he anticipated ...
6. oldal
... tion of the world ; while others in the man see only the author , and cease to regard him as a social being of the same nature with themselves . An author's station in society is always ambiguous , and liable to endless misapprehensions ...
... tion of the world ; while others in the man see only the author , and cease to regard him as a social being of the same nature with themselves . An author's station in society is always ambiguous , and liable to endless misapprehensions ...
13. oldal
... tion . Literary men , therefore , are not fitted for society , nor society for them . Both parties are rendered uneasy by the con- nection , and the more the former confine themselves to the company of their own class , the better for ...
... tion . Literary men , therefore , are not fitted for society , nor society for them . Both parties are rendered uneasy by the con- nection , and the more the former confine themselves to the company of their own class , the better for ...
45. oldal
... tion . A friend of mine , who undertook to transcribe one of the noblest performances of the finest genius that this , or perhaps any age can boast , has often assured me that there is not a single line , as it is published , which ...
... tion . A friend of mine , who undertook to transcribe one of the noblest performances of the finest genius that this , or perhaps any age can boast , has often assured me that there is not a single line , as it is published , which ...
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Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
admiration alluded amongst Anna Seward Atossa beauty Bolingbroke breast breath bright Chalkhill character Charlotte Smith charm cheerful Clearchus clouds conversation critics dear death delightful dreams Dryden Duchess of Marlborough E'en Earl of Marchmont egotism egotist Essay external face fair fame fancy feeling friendship genius gleam glorious glory happy harmony hath heart Horace Walpole human intellectual John Chalkhill Johnson labour Leigh Hunt less light lines literary look Lord Bolingbroke Lord Byron mankind Marchmont memory Milton mind Montaigne nature never o'er observed once passage passion perhaps Petrarch physiognomy pleasure poem poet poet's poetical poetry Pope Pope's praise prose reader remarks says scene seems Shakspeare silent Sir Egerton Brydges smile sonnet soul sound speak spirit stanza style sweet talk taste tender Thealma thine thing thou thought tion truth verse voice words writers
Népszerű szakaszok
278. oldal - Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, And while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups, That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
330. oldal - Phoebus lifts his golden fire: The birds in vain their amorous descant join, Or cheerful fields resume their green attire. These ears, alas! for other notes repine; A different object do these eyes require; My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine; And in my breast the imperfect joys expire; Yet morning smiles the busy race to cheer, And new-born pleasure brings to happier men; The fields to all their wonted tribute bear; To warm their little loves the birds complain. I fruitless mourn to him that...
95. oldal - Less than a god they thought there could not dwell Within the hollow of that shell That spoke so sweetly and so well. What passion cannot Music raise and quell!
127. oldal - Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see, Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be, In every work regard the writer's end, Since none can compass more than they intend; And if the means be just, the conduct true, Applause, in spite of trivial faults, is due.
89. oldal - Tis not enough no harshness gives offence, The sound must seem an echo to the sense. Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows ; But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar...
200. oldal - CYRIACK, this three years' day these eyes, though clear, To outward view, of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot ; Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, Or man, or woman.
91. oldal - Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony.
256. oldal - See, what a grace was seated on this brow; Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; A station like the herald Mercury, New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill; A combination, and a form, indeed, Where every god did seem to set his seal, To give the world assurance of a man : This was your husband.
147. oldal - Neither a borrower nor a lender be ; For loan oft loses both itself and friend, And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
95. oldal - Now strike the golden lyre again: A louder yet, and yet a louder strain ! Break his bands of sleep asunder And rouse him like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark, hark ! the horrid sound Has raised up his head : As awaked from the dead, And amazed he stares around. Revenge, revenge...