Obiter Dicta: Second Series, 1. kötetC. Scribner's Sons, 1891 - 291 oldal |
Részletek a könyvből
6 - 10 találat összesen 21 találatból.
65. oldal
... opinion . ' Sir Joshua Rey- nolds has lent me Dr. Johnson's Life of Pope , which Sir Joshua holds to be a chef d'œuvre . It is a most trumpery performance , and stuffed with all his crabbed phrases infirmities of ordinary human nature ...
... opinion . ' Sir Joshua Rey- nolds has lent me Dr. Johnson's Life of Pope , which Sir Joshua holds to be a chef d'œuvre . It is a most trumpery performance , and stuffed with all his crabbed phrases infirmities of ordinary human nature ...
80. oldal
... opinion that Pope's letters , with scarcely half - a - dozen excep- tions , and only one notable exception , are very little worth any person's reading . Pope's epistolary pranks have , perhaps , done him some injustice . It has always ...
... opinion that Pope's letters , with scarcely half - a - dozen excep- tions , and only one notable exception , are very little worth any person's reading . Pope's epistolary pranks have , perhaps , done him some injustice . It has always ...
81. oldal
... opinion undoubtedly is that the letter was Pope's from the beginning , and attributed by him to Gay because he did not want to have it appear that on the date in question he was corresponding with Lady Mary . After all , there is a ...
... opinion undoubtedly is that the letter was Pope's from the beginning , and attributed by him to Gay because he did not want to have it appear that on the date in question he was corresponding with Lady Mary . After all , there is a ...
111. oldal
... opinions and selfish in your habits is the best recipe , if not for happi- ness , at all events for that far more attain- able commodity , comfort , with which we are acquainted . ' A noisy man , ' sang poor Cowper , who could not bear ...
... opinions and selfish in your habits is the best recipe , if not for happi- ness , at all events for that far more attain- able commodity , comfort , with which we are acquainted . ' A noisy man , ' sang poor Cowper , who could not bear ...
125. oldal
... opinion , Burke was a better talker than the great Samuel himself . To cap it all , was not Burke a ' vile Whig ' ? The ordeal was an unusually trying one . John- son emerges triumphant . Though by no means disposed to hear men made ...
... opinion , Burke was a better talker than the great Samuel himself . To cap it all , was not Burke a ' vile Whig ' ? The ordeal was an unusually trying one . John- son emerges triumphant . Though by no means disposed to hear men made ...
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Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Ainger Aldersgate Street amongst ancient AUGUSTINE BIRRELL Ben Jonson bookseller Boswell Burke's called Cambridge Carlyle celebrated century certainly character Charles Lamb CONTENTS critic Curll death delight doubt Dunciad edition Edmund Burke Emerson English essay fact fame fancy father French Revolution friends Garrick genius George Eliot happy Hazlitt heart historian House human humour Iliad interest John John Milton Johnson king knew Lamb's letters literary literature lived Lord Lord Bolingbroke Lycidas Milton mind never Newman noble novel OBITER DICTA once opinion Oxford pamphlet Paradise Lost passion perhaps person philosophy pleasant pleasure poem poet poet's poetry political poor Pope Pope's quarrels question reader scholar Shakspeare spirit story Street style surely tell things thought tion Tory volumes W. E. HENLEY Whig whilst word write written wrote young youth
Népszerű szakaszok
106. oldal - Love had he found in huts where poor Men lie : His daily Teachers had been Woods and Rills, The silence that is in the starry sky, The sleep that is among the lonely hills.
50. oldal - Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine: But cloud instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me...
255. oldal - I've been tossed like the driven foam; But now, proud world ! I'm going home. Good-bye to Flattery's fawning face; To Grandeur with his wise grimace; To upstart Wealth's averted eye; To supple Office, low and high ; To crowded halls, to court and street ; To frozen hearts and hasting feet ; To those who go, and those who come ; Good-bye, proud world ! I'm going home.
123. oldal - James, whose skill in physic will be long remembered ; and with David Garrick, whom I hoped to have gratified with this character of our common friend. But what are the hopes of man ? I am disappointed by that stroke of death which has eclipsed the gaiety of nations, and impoverished the public stock of harmless pleasure.
253. oldal - For Nature beats in perfect tune, And rounds with rhyme her every rune, Whether she work in land or sea, Or hide underground her alchemy. Thou canst not wave thy staff in air, Or dip thy paddle in the lake, But it carves the bow of beauty there, And the ripples in rhymes the oar forsake.
13. oldal - With antique pillars massy proof, And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light. There let the pealing organ blow, To the full-voiced quire below, In service high and anthems clear, As may with sweetness, through mine ear, Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all Heaven before mine eyes.
101. oldal - Yes, I am proud; I must be proud to see Men not afraid of God afraid of me: Safe from the Bar, the Pulpit, and the Throne, Yet touched and shamed by ridicule alone.
132. oldal - Wealth, my lad, was made to wander, Let it wander as it will ; Call the jockey, call the pander, Bid them come and take their fill. When the bonny blade carouses, Pockets full, and spirits high — What are acres ? what are houses ? Only dirt, or wet or dry. Should the guardian friend or mother Tell the woes of wilful waste : Scorn their counsel, scorn their pother, — You can hang or drown at last.
97. oldal - Woe is me, my mother, that thou hast borne me a man of strife and a man of contention to the whole earth ! I have neither lent on usury, nor men have lent to me on usury; yet every one of them doth curse me.
9. oldal - HOW soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, Stolen on his wing my three-and-twentieth year! My hasting days fly on with full career, But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th.