The Letters of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Том 1Macmillan, 1897 |
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50 Wimpole Street admire Æschylus affectionate and grateful affectionate BA appear Arabel Athenæum beautiful believe bless Browning Browning's called certainly Chorley Colwall Commeline critics Cyprus wine dear Friend dear Miss dearest Miss Mitford delighted Drama of Exile E. B. BARRETT ELIZABETH BARRETT ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING England English fancy feel Florence Flush forgive genius George Sand give glad Greek H. S. Boyd happy hear heard heart Henrietta Horne Italy Jameson John Kenyon kind letter literary live London look Martin mean mind Miss Barrett never Ossian papa perhaps Pisa pleasure poem poet Poetical poetry poor postmark praise remember rhymes Robert Robert Browning Sarianna scarcely seems Seraphim Sidmouth sonnet speak spirits summer sure sympathy Synesius talk tell Tennyson thank thing thought told Torquay truth verses volume week Westwood winter wish word Wordsworth write written wrote
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Стр. 66 - Through the kindness of another invaluable friend, to whom I owe many obligations, but none so great as this, I saw much of her during my stay in town. We met so constantly and so familiarly that in spite of the difference of age intimacy ripened into friendship, and after my return into the country, we corresponded freely and frequently, her letters being just what letters ought to be — her own talk put upon paper.
Стр. 289 - I showed him how he was throwing into the ashes his best affections — - how the common gifts of youth and cheerfulness were behind me — how I had not strength, even of heart, for the ordinary duties of life — everything I told him and showed him. 'Look at this — and this — and this,' throwing down all my disadvantages. To which he did not answer by a single compliment, but simply that he had not then to choose, and that I might be right or he might be right, he was not there to decide ;...
Стр. 412 - I have been growing stronger and stronger, and where it is to stop I can't tell, really. I can do as much or more now than at any point of my life since I arrived at woman's estate.
Стр. 317 - Fortunately for all those who love true poetry, Mr. Browning judged rightly of the obligation laid upon him by the possession of these poems. 'I dared not,' he said, 'reserve to myself the finest sonnets written in any language since Shakespeare's.
Стр. 277 - Beloved, thou hast brought me many flowers Plucked in the garden, all the summer through And winter, and it seemed as if they grew In this close room, nor missed the sun and showers. So, in the like name of that love of ours, Take back these thoughts which here unfolded too. And which on warm and cold days I withdrew From my heart's ground. Indeed, those beds and bowers Be overgrown with bitter weeds and rue. And wait thy weeding; yet here's eglantine...
Стр. 381 - So we went to Ancona — a striking sea city, holding up against the brown rocks, and elbowing out the purple tides — beautiful to look upon. An exfoliation of the rock itself you would call the houses that seem to grow there — so identical is the colour and character. I should like to visit Ancona again when there is a little air and shadow. We stayed a week, as it was, living upon fish and cold water. ...
Стр. 4 - All this time, and indeed the greater part of my life, we lived at Hope End, a few miles from Malvern, in a retirement scarcely broken to me except by books and my own thoughts, and it is a beautiful country, and was a retirement happy in many ways, although the very peace of it troubles the heart as it looks back. There I had my fits of Pope, and Byron, and Coleridge...
Стр. 449 - I have complained of the asceticism in the second part ; but he said it was ' one side of the question.' Don't think that he has taken to the cilix — indeed he has not — but it is his way to see things as passionately as others feel them.
Стр. 315 - was reprinted the following year as a pamphlet for the author's own use. She says of it in a letter from Pisa to Mr. Boyd, dated December 21, 1846, ' I am just sending off an anti-slavery poem for America, too ferocious, perhaps, for the Americans to publish; but they asked for a poem, and shall have it.
Стр. 140 - I'll tell you, friend! a wise man and a fool. You'll find, if once the monarch acts the monk, Or, cobbler-like, the parson will be drunk, Worth makes the man, and want of it, the fellow; The rest is all but leather or prunella.