The Wept of Wish-ton-wish: A Tale

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Hurd and Houghton, 1866 - 483 Seiten

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Seite 283 - Sir, he hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a book ; he hath not eat paper, as it were ; he hath not drunk ink : his intellect is not replenished ; he is only an animal, only sensible in the duller parts...
Seite 388 - The lunatic, the lover, and the poet Are of imagination all compact: One sees more devils than vast hell can hold; That is the madman: the lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt: The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven And, as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing...
Seite 170 - There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave, To tell us this. Ham. Why, right; you are in the right ; And so, without more circumstance at all, I hold it fit, that we shake hands, and part: You, as your business, and desire, shall point you; — For every man...
Seite 252 - God hath blessed you with a good name : to be a well-favoured man is the gift of fortune ; but to write and read comes by nature 2 Watch.
Seite 136 - Flashy people may burlesque these things, but when hundreds of the most sober people in a country, where they have as much mother- wit certainly as the rest of mankind, know them to be true, nothing but the absurd and froward spirit of Sadducism can question them.
Seite 327 - AND the children of Israel did evil in the sight of the Lord : and the Lord delivered them into the hand of Midian seven years.
Seite 470 - Or midst the chase, on every plain, The tender thought on thee shall dwell : Each lonely scene shall thee restore ; For thee the tear be duly shed ; Beloved, till life can charm no more ; And mourn'd, till Pity's self be dead.
Seite 318 - With all the forms, and hues, and airs, That haunt her sweetest spot. We gaze upon thy calm pure sphere, And read of Heaven's eternal year. Oh, when, amid the throng of men, The heart grows sick of hollow mirth, How willingly we turn us then Away from this cold earth, And look into thy azure breast, For seats of innocence and rest ! "I CANNOT FORGET WITH WHAT FERVID DEVOTION.
Seite 226 - What are these, So withered, and so wild in their attire; That look not like the inhabitants o
Seite 134 - Last night of all, When yon same star, that's westward from the pole, Had made his course to illume that part of heaven Where now it burns, Marcellus, and myself, The bell then beating one, — Mar. Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again!

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