Thoughts on the PoetsC.S. Francis & Company, 1846 - 318 էջ |
From inside the book
Արդյունքներ 61–ի 1-ից 5-ը:
Էջ 9
... less sameness pervading the whole . It is undeniable that many of the conceits are frigid , and betray the ingenuity of fancy rather than the ardour of passion ; but these arose from the habit of " thinking too precisely " —a char ...
... less sameness pervading the whole . It is undeniable that many of the conceits are frigid , and betray the ingenuity of fancy rather than the ardour of passion ; but these arose from the habit of " thinking too precisely " —a char ...
Էջ 12
... less cordially , to every sincere appeal to a capacity so divine . All the folly of vain imaginations , all the coarseness of vulgar sensuality , all the scorn of mental hardihood , while they profane the name , can never violate the ...
... less cordially , to every sincere appeal to a capacity so divine . All the folly of vain imaginations , all the coarseness of vulgar sensuality , all the scorn of mental hardihood , while they profane the name , can never violate the ...
Էջ 16
... less ennobling plea- sures . Compared with those around him , his example was worthy of all praise , and a sincere vein of conscien- tious sensibility and repentant musing , mingles with and lends pathos and dignity to his strains of ...
... less ennobling plea- sures . Compared with those around him , his example was worthy of all praise , and a sincere vein of conscien- tious sensibility and repentant musing , mingles with and lends pathos and dignity to his strains of ...
Էջ 17
... less appears to the majority of readers , particularly those of northern origin , a piece of absurd romance . Yet , let us endeavour to regard it calmly and thoughtfully , and discover if there be no actual foundation for such an ...
... less appears to the majority of readers , particularly those of northern origin , a piece of absurd romance . Yet , let us endeavour to regard it calmly and thoughtfully , and discover if there be no actual foundation for such an ...
Էջ 18
... less , confiding woman , win her to himself . But let him not imagine that such an outrage to the majesty of Love , will secure to him its richest fruits . His pride may be gratified by the dependence of a fair and gentle being , and ...
... less , confiding woman , win her to himself . But let him not imagine that such an outrage to the majesty of Love , will secure to him its richest fruits . His pride may be gratified by the dependence of a fair and gentle being , and ...
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Էջ 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.
Էջ 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.
Էջ 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...
Էջ 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.
Էջ 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.
Էջ 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.
Էջ 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.
Էջ 278 - Dower'd with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn, The love of love.
Էջ 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.
Էջ 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.