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Стр. 21
Delicious cup , - I pledge thy sparkling wine To woman ' s fondest hour , and
faintest sigh ; The maid who sanctified a brim like thine , Possess ' d a tender
heart , a beaming eye . Delicious cup , — thy sweet oblivion cast O ' er all but love
( for ...
Delicious cup , - I pledge thy sparkling wine To woman ' s fondest hour , and
faintest sigh ; The maid who sanctified a brim like thine , Possess ' d a tender
heart , a beaming eye . Delicious cup , — thy sweet oblivion cast O ' er all but love
( for ...
Стр. 360
He rose at two , coursed the park or the town till six , Jined at eight , and retired
from the vulgar world at the hour when its common - place inhabitants were about
to resume their daily avocations — but all would not do ; he was in plain truth ...
He rose at two , coursed the park or the town till six , Jined at eight , and retired
from the vulgar world at the hour when its common - place inhabitants were about
to resume their daily avocations — but all would not do ; he was in plain truth ...
Стр. 416
In the ninth pastoral we meet with the following couplet : “ Here , where the lab '
rer ' s hands have form ' d a bower Of wreathing trees , in singing waste an hour .
" LINE 84 . Why Dryden represented Lycidas entreating Mæris to “ waste " an ...
In the ninth pastoral we meet with the following couplet : “ Here , where the lab '
rer ' s hands have form ' d a bower Of wreathing trees , in singing waste an hour .
" LINE 84 . Why Dryden represented Lycidas entreating Mæris to “ waste " an ...
Стр. 417
It was on the day , or rather night , of the 27th of June , 1787 , between the hours
of eleven and twelve , that I wrote the ... Johnson , on the contrary , except when
compiling his dictionary , seems never to have assigned an hour to any thing .
It was on the day , or rather night , of the 27th of June , 1787 , between the hours
of eleven and twelve , that I wrote the ... Johnson , on the contrary , except when
compiling his dictionary , seems never to have assigned an hour to any thing .
Стр. 443
The only difference between our respective ranks is this , ' said the stranger , that
you are apothecary to the forces ; - - I am commander - in - chief of the same
forces ; and now , sir , I order you to be out of these quarters in half an hour !
The only difference between our respective ranks is this , ' said the stranger , that
you are apothecary to the forces ; - - I am commander - in - chief of the same
forces ; and now , sir , I order you to be out of these quarters in half an hour !
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Стр. 289 - When I see kings lying by those who deposed them, when I consider rival wits placed side by side, or the holy men that divided the world with their contests and disputes, I reflect with sorrow and astonishment on the little competitions, factions, and debates of mankind.
Стр. 289 - When I look upon the tombs of the great, every emotion of envy dies in me ; when I read the epitaphs of the beautiful, every inordinate desire goes out; when I meet with the grief of parents upon a tombstone, my heart melts with compassion: when I see the tomb of the parents themselves, I consider the vanity of grieving for those whom we must quickly follow...
Стр. 47 - And should my youth, as youth is apt, I know, Some harshness show, All vain asperities I day by day Would wear away, Till the smooth temper of my age should be Like the high leaves upon the Holly tree.
Стр. 48 - How beautiful is night ! A dewy freshness fills the silent air, No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain, Breaks the serene of heaven : In full-orbed glory yonder moon divine Rolls through the dark blue depths.
Стр. 363 - 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.
Стр. 409 - It was on the day, or rather night, of the 27th of June 1787, between the hours of eleven and twelve, that I wrote the last lines of the last page, in a summer-house in my garden. After laying down my pen, I took several turns in a berceau, or covered walk of acacias, which commands a prospect of the country, the lake, and the mountains.
Стр. 363 - They parted — ne'er to meet again! But never either found another To free the hollow heart from paining — They stood aloof, the scars remaining, Like cliffs which had been rent asunder; A dreary sea now flows between: But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder, Shall wholly do away, I ween, The marks of that which once hath been.
Стр. 409 - I will not dissemble the first emotions of joy on recovery of my freedom, and, perhaps, the establishment of my fame. But my pride was soon humbled, and a sober melancholy was spread over my mind, by the idea that I had taken an everlasting leave of an old and agreeable companion, and that, whatsoever might be the future date of my History, the life of the historian must be short and precarious.
Стр. 363 - For a lady's chamber meet : The lamp with twofold silver chain Is fastened to an angel's feet.
Стр. 12 - Such as is one of these magnificent machines when springing from inaction into a display of its might, such is England herself, while apparently passive and motionless, she silently concentrates the power to be put forth on an adequate occasion.