An Index to the Collected Works of William Hazlitt, Том 1J.M. Dent, 1906 - Всего страниц: 237 |
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A. R. WALLER Amoris Arnold Glover artists Beaumont and Fletcher's beauty Burke's Cæsar cold Coleridge's Congreve's daughter death Defoe's DENT & CO divine Don Quixote Dryden's Duchess Duke earth Essay evil eyes fair famous poet's Fielding's flower Gammer Gurton's Needle gentle give grace green Guido HARVARD COLLEGE hath Hazlitt heart Henry IV Hogarth's Holcroft's ideas Inchbald's J. M. DENT Jonson's Julius Cæsar Landor's list of quotations live Lord madness Maid's Tragedy melancholy Michael mighty mind Molière's night Old Mortality painter passion picture Pindar play poets poor Prince proud Quentin Raphael's Richard Salvator's Samuel Scott's Sejanus Shakespeare's King John Sidney's sing Sir John Sir Thomas smile soft song soul soul supreme Southey's Spenser sweet tears things thou thought Tintoretto's Titian's town Vanbrugh's Vandyke's Venice viii volume xii William WILLIAM HAZLITT Wilson's Wycherley's
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Стр. 124 - Dreams, books, are each a world; and books, we know, Are a substantial world, both pure and good: Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, Our pastime and our happiness will grow.
Стр. 139 - TO HIS COY MISTRESS HAD we but world enough, and time, This coyness, lady, were no crime. We would sit down, and think which way To walk, and pass our long love's day. Thou by the Indian Ganges' side Shouldst rubies find: I by the tide Of Humber would complain. I would Love you ten years before the flood, And you should, if you please, refuse Till the conversion of the Jews; My vegetable...
Стр. 121 - ASK me no more where Jove bestows, When June is past, the fading rose; For in your beauty's orient deep These flowers, as in their causes, sleep. Ask me no more whither do stray The golden atoms of the day; For in pure love heaven did prepare Those powders to enrich your hair. Ask me no more...
Стр. 122 - I cannot eat but little meat, My stomach is not good ; But sure I think that I can drink With him that wears a hood. Though I go bare, take ye no care, I nothing am a-cold ; I stuff my skin so full within Of jolly good ale and old. Back and side go bare, go bare ; Both foot and hand go cold ; But, belly, God send thee good ale enough, Whether it be new or old.
Стр. 141 - Face of the curled stream, with flow'rs as many As the young spring gives, and as choice as any; Here be all new delights, cool streams and wells, Arbours o'ergrown with...
Стр. 156 - Morison's not dead. He leap'd the present age, Possest with holy rage To see that bright eternal day ; Of which we priests and poets say Such truths, as we expect for happy men ; And there he lives with memory and Ben.
Стр. 169 - Wedgwood (of whom, however, he spoke highly) had expressed a very indifferent opinion of his friend Mr Wordsworth, on which he remarked to them — 'He strides on so far before you, that he dwindles in the distance!
Стр. 174 - Alas, my lord, my life is not a thing Worthy your noble thoughts ! 'tis not a life, 'Tis but a piece of childhood thrown away.
Стр. 125 - But where ye doubt, the truth not knowing, Believing the best, good may be growing. In judging the best, no harm at the least : In judging the worst, no good at the best. But best in these things it seemeth to me, To...
Стр. 139 - He examines his own mind, and perceives there nothing of that divine inspiration, with which he is told so many others have been favoured. He never travelled to Heaven to gather new ideas, and he finds himself possessed of no other qualifications than what mere common observation and a plain understanding can confer. Thus he becomes gloomy amidst the splendour of figurative declamation, and thinks it hopeless to pursue an object which he supposes out of the reach of human industry.