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appeared beautiful became called castle cause century character chief church common considerable continued court death Dublin early England English exhibition eyes feeling French genius George give given hand head heart hope interest Ireland Irish Italy John kind king known Lady land late laws learned letter lived London look Lord manner means meet mind Miss Moore nature never observed once original parliament party passed performed period persons play Poet political poor possession present published reader received returned round seemed seen side society spirit street tells thing Thomas thought tion took town true whole writing written young
Стр. 832 - Lords and Commons of England, consider what nation it is whereof ye are and whereof ye are the governors : a nation not slow and dull, but of a quick, ingenious, and piercing spirit, acute to invent, subtle and sinewy to discourse, not beneath the reach of any point the highest that human capacity can soar to.
Стр. 619 - Oh yet we trust that somehow good Will be the final goal of ill, To pangs of nature, sins of will, Defects of doubt, and taints of blood ; That nothing walks with aimless feet ; That not one life shall be destroyed, Or cast as rubbish to the void, When God hath made the pile complete...
Стр. 419 - Not wholly in the busy world, nor quite Beyond it, blooms the garden that I love. News from the humming city comes to it In sound of funeral or of marriage bells; And, sitting muffled in dark leaves, you hear The windy clanging of the minster clock ; Although between it and the garden lies A league of grass...
Стр. 461 - I see before me the gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand ; his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his drooped head sinks gradually low ; And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower ; and now The arena swims around him ; he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won.
Стр. 464 - An Iris sits, amidst the infernal surge, Like Hope upon a death-bed, and, unworn Its steady dyes, while all around is torn By the distracted waters, bears serene Its brilliant hues with all their beams unshorn : Resembling, 'mid the torture of the scene.
Стр. 469 - The torch shall be extinguish'd which hath lit My midnight lamp— and what is writ, is writ; Would it were worthier; but I am not now That which I have been — and my visions flit Less palpably before me — and the glow Which in my spirit dwelt is fluttering, faint, and low.
Стр. 465 - We gaze and turn away, and know not where, Dazzled and drunk with beauty, till the heart Reels with its fulness ; there— for ever there — Chained to the chariot of triumphal Art, We stand as captives, and would not depart.
Стр. 464 - To the broad column which rolls on, and shows More like the fountain of an infant sea Torn from the womb of mountains by the throes Of a new world...
Стр. 161 - I took Moore's poems and my own and some others, and went over them side by side with Pope's, and I was really astonished (I ought not to have been so) and mortified at the ineffable distance in point of sense, learning, effect, and even imagination, passion, and invention, between the little Queen Anne's man, and us of the Lower Empire.
Стр. 788 - Agathocles' pot, a Mordecai in your gate, a Lazarus at your door, a lion in your path, a frog in your chamber, a fly in your ointment, a mote in your eye, a triumph to your enemy, an apology to your friends, the one thing not needful, the hail in harvest, the ounce of sour in a pound of sweet.