Thoughts on the PoetsC.S. Francis & Company, 1846 - 318 Seiten |
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Seite 9
... voice was denied me , hence I sought utterance in writing . † Often I began to write verses , but the pen , the hand and the mind were overcome at the first attempt . and the colour of her eyes and hair , her PETRARCH . 9.
... voice was denied me , hence I sought utterance in writing . † Often I began to write verses , but the pen , the hand and the mind were overcome at the first attempt . and the colour of her eyes and hair , her PETRARCH . 9.
Seite 50
... hand of time , or blighted by the frost of neglect , as long as there are minds to appreciate , or hearts to reverence the household lore of English literature . GRAY . COUNTLESS are the modifications of the poetic faculty 50 THOUGHTS ...
... hand of time , or blighted by the frost of neglect , as long as there are minds to appreciate , or hearts to reverence the household lore of English literature . GRAY . COUNTLESS are the modifications of the poetic faculty 50 THOUGHTS ...
Seite 55
... hand , lying by ; -boxes of mignionette and other plants adorn the window ; there is a tortoise - shell cat , a vase of gold fish , and on the table a blood - stone seal and beautiful inkstand . Every thing bespeaks order , quietude ...
... hand , lying by ; -boxes of mignionette and other plants adorn the window ; there is a tortoise - shell cat , a vase of gold fish , and on the table a blood - stone seal and beautiful inkstand . Every thing bespeaks order , quietude ...
Seite 60
... hand can trace ; And o'er the cheek of sorrow throw A melancholy grace . The hues of bliss more brightly glow Chastis'd by sabler tints of wo ; And blended , form with artful strife , The strength and harmony of life . * See the wretch ...
... hand can trace ; And o'er the cheek of sorrow throw A melancholy grace . The hues of bliss more brightly glow Chastis'd by sabler tints of wo ; And blended , form with artful strife , The strength and harmony of life . * See the wretch ...
Seite 75
... hand was morbidly vain . He was weak enough to indulge an ambition for distinguish- ed acquaintance , and a most effeminate caprice swayed his attachments and enmities . Another prominent trait in- creased his resemblance to the female ...
... hand was morbidly vain . He was weak enough to indulge an ambition for distinguish- ed acquaintance , and a most effeminate caprice swayed his attachments and enmities . Another prominent trait in- creased his resemblance to the female ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
admiration affections Alfieri amid appear ardent attractive awakened bard Barry Cornwall beauty blank verse bosom breathes Byron calm character charm cheer chiefly Crabbe death delight destiny devoted dreams earnest Edinburgh Review eloquence exalted excited experience eyes faith fame fancy feeling FELICIA HEMANS flowers genius genuine gifted glow Goldsmith grace happy heart heaven honour hope human idea imagination impression influence interest Italy JOANNA BAILLIE Keats labours language Leigh Hunt light literary literature lover lyre Madame de Stael ment mental Metastasio mind moral muse nature ness never Night Thoughts noble o'er passion pathy peculiar Petrarch pleasure poems poet poet's poetical poetry Queen Mab rare remarkable rhymes Rydal Mount scenes seems sense sensibility sentiment Shelley smile song soul spirit style sweet sympathy taste tender thee thing thou thought tion tone traits true truth verse Victor Alfieri woman Wordsworth writings young youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 235 - Though I should gaze for ever On that green light that lingers in the west: I may not hope from outward forms to win The passion and the life, whose fountains are within.
Seite 84 - Kent. Vex not his ghost. O, let him pass! He hates him That would upon the rack of this tough world Stretch him out longer.
Seite 223 - But for those first affections, Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain-light of all our day, Are yet a master-light of all our seeing; Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal silence...
Seite 60 - See the wretch, that long has tost On the thorny bed of pain, At length repair his vigour lost, And breathe and walk again : The meanest floweret of the vale, The simplest note that swells the gale, The common sun, the air, the skies, To him are opening paradise.
Seite 250 - Until the poppied warmth of sleep oppress'd Her soothed limbs, and soul fatigued away ; Flown, like a thought, until the morrow-day ; Blissfully haven'd both from joy and pain; Clasp'd like a missal where swart Paynims pray; Blinded alike from sunshine and from rain, As though a rose should shut, and be a bud again.
Seite 147 - The breath whose might I have invoked in song Descends on me; my spirit's bark is driven, Far from the shore, far from the trembling throng Whose sails were never to the tempest given; The massy earth and sphered skies are riven! I am borne darkly, fearfully, afar; Whilst burning through the inmost veil of Heaven, The soul of Adonais, like a star, Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are.
Seite 310 - To him who in the love of nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty ; and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy that steals away Their sharpness ere he is aware.
Seite 278 - Dower'd with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn, The love of love.
Seite 98 - I care not, fortune, what you me deny ; You cannot rob me of free nature's grace ; You cannot shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shows her brightening face, You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve : Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And I their toys to the great children leave : Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave.
Seite 192 - MINE be a cot beside the hill ; A bee-hive's hum shall soothe my ear; A willowy brook, that turns a mill, With many a fall shall linger near. The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch, Shall twitter from her clay-built nest; Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch, And share my meal, a welcome guest.