Literary Essays: Shakespeare once more. Dryden. My garden acquaintance. On a certain condescension in foreigners. A good word for winter. Chaucer

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1890
 

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Seite 109 - The lonely mountains o'er and the resounding shore a voice of weeping heard and loud lament ; from haunted spring and dale edged with poplar pale the parting Genius is with sighing sent; with flower-inwoven tresses torn the nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn.
Seite 270 - Fire-side enjoyments, home-born happiness, And all the comforts, that the lowly roof Of undisturbed retirement, and the hours Of long uninterrupted evening, know.
Seite 78 - If to do were as easy as to know what were^ good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages princes' palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own instructions: I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching.
Seite 121 - 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...
Seite 106 - Oxford to him a dearer name shall be, Than his own mother university. Thebes did his green, unknowing youth engage; He chooses Athens in his riper age.
Seite 302 - When in the chronicle of wasted time ! / I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rhyme, In praise of ladies dead, and lovely knights, Then in the blazon of sweet beauty's best, Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, I see their antique pen would have express'd Even such a beauty as you master now.
Seite 62 - Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change ! Thy pyramids built up with newer might To me are nothing novel, nothing strange ; They are but dressings of a former sight. Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire What thou dost foist upon us that is old, And rather make them born to our desire Than think that we before have heard them told. Thy registers and thee I both defy, Not wondering at the present nor the past...
Seite 43 - When proud-pied April dressed in all his trim Hath put a spirit of youth in everything', That heavy Saturn laughed and leaped with him. Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue Could make me any summer's story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew; Nor did I wonder at the...
Seite 74 - I loved Ophelia: forty thousand brothers Could not with all their quantity of love, Make up my sum.
Seite 150 - The poets, who must live by courts, or starve, Were proud, so good a government to serve ; And, mixing with buffoons and pimps profane, Tainted the stage for some small snip of gain : For they, like harlots, under bawds professed, Took all the ungodly pains, and got the least.

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