Studies in LiteratureH.C. Turnbull, jr., 1870 - Всего страниц: 158 |
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Стр. 3
... writing . In 1830 he left the New - England Review in charge of the poet Whittier , and accepted an invitation to go to Ken . tucky for the purpose of writing the biography of Henry Clay . As soon as he reached Lexington , the home of ...
... writing . In 1830 he left the New - England Review in charge of the poet Whittier , and accepted an invitation to go to Ken . tucky for the purpose of writing the biography of Henry Clay . As soon as he reached Lexington , the home of ...
Стр. 6
... writing . This disease shows itself only when the hand attempts to write . Mr. PRENTICE , could handle other things than a writing in- strument without any trouble . Indeed , for a long time after the appearance of the disease , he was ...
... writing . This disease shows itself only when the hand attempts to write . Mr. PRENTICE , could handle other things than a writing in- strument without any trouble . Indeed , for a long time after the appearance of the disease , he was ...
Стр. 9
... written in his lexicon . He accomplished everything he undertook . His learning was varied , thorough , and profound . What he did not know he never affected to possess . He imitated no one . He created models rather than followed them ...
... written in his lexicon . He accomplished everything he undertook . His learning was varied , thorough , and profound . What he did not know he never affected to possess . He imitated no one . He created models rather than followed them ...
Стр. 10
... writing was quick , subtle , powerful , and massive . There was nothing dull or commonplace about it . He wrote with marvellous facility , and often dashed off from six to ten columns of printed matter a day . His wit was keen ...
... writing was quick , subtle , powerful , and massive . There was nothing dull or commonplace about it . He wrote with marvellous facility , and often dashed off from six to ten columns of printed matter a day . His wit was keen ...
Стр. 12
... written for the New York Ledger . Mr. PRENTICE had for years been repeatedly solicited to allow the publi- cation of such a volume , but uniformly declined because there were serious objections to many of his wittiest para- graphs on ...
... written for the New York Ledger . Mr. PRENTICE had for years been repeatedly solicited to allow the publi- cation of such a volume , but uniformly declined because there were serious objections to many of his wittiest para- graphs on ...
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acting actor admiration affection afterward ANTONY autographs bear beauty BELISARIUS Booth breath called Cawdor character charms CLEOPATRA critics CYMBELINE dark distinguished drama dreams drunk EDWIN BOOTH endeavored everything exclaimed expression exquisite eyes fancy feel female fury GARRICK Gelimer gender genius German giaour Giletta give grace Gypsie Laddie Gypsy HAMLET Heady heard heart Heaven hope husband imagination JANAUSCHEK John John Faa Julius Cæsar King Lady Macbeth language letter lived look Lord Lord Byron Louisville marriage murder nature never Ophelia original palace passion Penn person play poems poet poetry portrayed PRENTICE PRENTICE's purity Richard Henry Lee says SCARLET LETTER scene seems seen SHAKSPEARE Shakspeare's SHELLEY sleep soul speech spirit splendor story sweet thee things thou thought tion truth utmost VANITY FAIR VATHEK verbs virtue weird sisters wife woman wonderful words write written wrote
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Стр. 67 - She should have died hereafter ; There would have been a time for such a word. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death.
Стр. 50 - Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on ; and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.
Стр. 150 - Hell is murky! — Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account? — Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? Doct. Do you mark that? Lady M. The thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now? — What, will these hands ne'er be clean ? — No more o' that, my lord, no more o' that: you mar all with this starting.
Стр. 7 - Just to think of it sets me shivering from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet.
Стр. 51 - Hence, bashful cunning ! And prompt me, plain and holy innocence ! I am your wife, if you will marry me ; If not, I'll die your maid : to be your fellow You may deny me ; but I'll be your servant, Whether you will or no.
Стр. 118 - IN Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree : Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round : And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
Стр. 64 - Sleep no more ! Macbeth does murder sleep,' the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast, — Lady M. What do you mean ? Macb. Still it cried ' Sleep no more ! ' to all the house : ' Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more ; Macbeth shall sleep no more.
Стр. 149 - Your face, my thane, is as a book where men May read strange matters ; — to beguile the time, Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye, Your hand, your tongue : look like th' innocent flower, But be the serpent under't.
Стр. 149 - The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, To cry 'Hold, hold!
Стр. 119 - Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me, That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome ! those caves of ice ! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware! Beware ! His flashing eyes, his floating hair, Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise.