The gay science, Том 2 |
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Стр. viii
... chapter Page 65 . CHAPTER XIII . HIDDEN PLEASURE . It is necessary now to examine a series of facts connected with Pleasure which have been hitherto neglected . - All Pleasure self - forgetful ; and as compared with Pain , difficult to ...
... chapter Page 65 . CHAPTER XIII . HIDDEN PLEASURE . It is necessary now to examine a series of facts connected with Pleasure which have been hitherto neglected . - All Pleasure self - forgetful ; and as compared with Pain , difficult to ...
Стр. ix
... chapter .. .. Page 109 CHAPTER XIV . THE ETHICS OF ART . Retrospect of the argument . The discussion hitherto has been re- stricted to Psychology , and to Psychology belongs an inquiry into the Ethics of Art . - The question of supreme ...
... chapter .. .. Page 109 CHAPTER XIV . THE ETHICS OF ART . Retrospect of the argument . The discussion hitherto has been re- stricted to Psychology , and to Psychology belongs an inquiry into the Ethics of Art . - The question of supreme ...
Стр. 4
Eneas Sweetland Dallas. X. CHAPTER land , another to possess it ; one thing to point out where alone science is to be found , another to exhibit the science in all its fair proportions . The latter of these tasks I do not attempt , and ...
Eneas Sweetland Dallas. X. CHAPTER land , another to possess it ; one thing to point out where alone science is to be found , another to exhibit the science in all its fair proportions . The latter of these tasks I do not attempt , and ...
Стр. 3
Enaeas Sweetland Dallas. THE GAY SCIENCE . CHAPTER X. ON PLEASURE . X. of the pre- vious argu- HE conclusion to which we have been CHAPTER driven in the foregoing chapters is that criticism , if it is to be a science , Summary must be ...
Enaeas Sweetland Dallas. THE GAY SCIENCE . CHAPTER X. ON PLEASURE . X. of the pre- vious argu- HE conclusion to which we have been CHAPTER driven in the foregoing chapters is that criticism , if it is to be a science , Summary must be ...
Стр. 11
... CHAPTER was acquainted with every by - way and hidden haunt of philosophy , and who has been most careful to gather together , from every the furthest corner , all the traces of speculation as to the nature of pleasure . Sir William has ...
... CHAPTER was acquainted with every by - way and hidden haunt of philosophy , and who has been most careful to gather together , from every the furthest corner , all the traces of speculation as to the nature of pleasure . Sir William has ...
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action Archdeacon Hare argument Aristippus Aristotle artist assertion beautiful biography called CHAPTER character colour conceit conscious criticism Cyrenaic delight described doctrine Doge Doge of Venice doubt drama enjoyment Europe example eyes fact fact law feeling fiction flourished Georgiana Fullerton give Goethe Greek grief happy heart heaven hero hidden pleasure human idea imagination individual influence knowledge less literature live look Lord Houghton Marc Girardin means ment Mill Milton mind modern monks moral movement music of Provence nature ness never object opinion ourselves pain painting passion philosophy Pietro Ziani Plato plea Plutarch poet poetical poetry present pure pleasure question racter regard sensation sense Sir William Hamilton Socrates soul speak spirit suicide sure sympathy tell tendency thing thinker thou thought tion true truth uncon vanity Venetian Venice withers words XVII
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Стр. 235 - Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine, The white pink, and the pansy freaked with jet, The glowing violet, The musk-rose, and the well-attired woodbine, With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears; Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed, And daffodillies fill their cups with tears, To strew the laureate hearse where Lycid lies.
Стр. 135 - Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down, 'Twas sad as sad could be; And we did speak only to break The silence of the sea! All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon.
Стр. 136 - Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean. Water, water, everywhere, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water, everywhere Nor any drop to drink.
Стр. 9 - tis all a cheat ; Yet, fooled with Hope, men favour the deceit, Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay ; To-morrow's falser than the former day, Lies worse, and while it says we shall be blest With some new joys, cuts off what we possest.
Стр. 38 - 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.
Стр. 122 - My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thy happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
Стр. 222 - Tragedy, as it was anciently composed, hath been ever held the gravest, moralest, and most profitable of all other poems: therefore said by Aristotle to be of power, by raising pity and fear, or terror, to purge the mind of those and suchlike passions, that is, to temper and reduce them to just measure with a kind of delight, stirred up by reading or seeing those passions well imitated.
Стр. 196 - Where no misgiving is, rely Upon the genial sense of youth: Glad Hearts! without reproach or blot; Who do thy work, and know it not: Oh!
Стр. 134 - Alas! what boots it with incessant care To tend the homely slighted shepherd's trade, And strictly meditate the thankless Muse? Were it not better done as others use, To sport with Amaryllis in the shade, Or with the tangles of Neaera's hair?
Стр. 45 - Oh that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people...