The Ruminator: Containing a Series of Moral, Critical, and Sentimental Essays, Том 2Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, 1813 |
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Стр. 13
... muse and mourn that who could amplest pour Homeric tones on thy resounding shore , PORSON , is dead ! That sea of Grecian lore Unbounded , in the abyss of fate inurn'd ! ” Nov. 1 , 1808 . C. L. N LI . Greek Ode on Eton . By Mr. THE ...
... muse and mourn that who could amplest pour Homeric tones on thy resounding shore , PORSON , is dead ! That sea of Grecian lore Unbounded , in the abyss of fate inurn'd ! ” Nov. 1 , 1808 . C. L. N LI . Greek Ode on Eton . By Mr. THE ...
Стр. 72
... Muse exhibit , can we doubt that it cost him continued toils , repeated self - denials , years of ordinary pleasures foregone , and a thousand sensual wishes conquered ? When we compare the time of his life thus spent with the mode in ...
... Muse exhibit , can we doubt that it cost him continued toils , repeated self - denials , years of ordinary pleasures foregone , and a thousand sensual wishes conquered ? When we compare the time of his life thus spent with the mode in ...
Стр. 77
... Muse , which has not been thus in- cluded . And it is the glory of the Sonnet to add that it has most rarely been disgraced by any un- worthy subject . " O • I cannot refrain from adding the following passages of Mr. Lorrt's letter ...
... Muse , which has not been thus in- cluded . And it is the glory of the Sonnet to add that it has most rarely been disgraced by any un- worthy subject . " O • I cannot refrain from adding the following passages of Mr. Lorrt's letter ...
Стр. 79
... Muse , urge thy untir'd career Right onward thro ' the clouds of worldly wrong ; Thro ' all the ills that round life's pathway throng ; Nor flag thy plumes at Envy's frown severe ; Nor listen to the baleful Critic's sneer ; P This is ...
... Muse , urge thy untir'd career Right onward thro ' the clouds of worldly wrong ; Thro ' all the ills that round life's pathway throng ; Nor flag thy plumes at Envy's frown severe ; Nor listen to the baleful Critic's sneer ; P This is ...
Стр. 80
... Muse Of Milton's self from yonder clouds shall bend , And on thy lyre drop fresh Castalian dews ; While Petrarch and deep Dante clap their wings , And each in blended notes about thee sings . Jan. 17 , 1809 . No LXI . On Birth . ALL the ...
... Muse Of Milton's self from yonder clouds shall bend , And on thy lyre drop fresh Castalian dews ; While Petrarch and deep Dante clap their wings , And each in blended notes about thee sings . Jan. 17 , 1809 . No LXI . On Birth . ALL the ...
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The Ruminator: Containing a Series of Moral, Critical, and ..., Том 2 Sir Egerton Brydges Полный просмотр - 1813 |
The Ruminator: Containing a Series of Moral, Critical, and ..., Том 2 Sir Egerton Brydges Полный просмотр - 1813 |
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admirable amid appeared beauty Bulstrode Whitelock Capel Lofft Castara censure character charms clouds contempt Cowper dark death delight divine Earl elegant Elegy enchantment enjoyment essays exertion exquisite fame fancy feelings fortè frame FRANCIS QUARLES genius George Wither glory Habington happiness hath heart heaven honour human imagination indiga inglorius Inner Temple intellectual John Thurloe Johnson judgment learned letter literary living Lord Lord Clarendon's Lord Clifford memory ment merit Michael Drayton mind moral Muse nature neque never noble numbers o'er once passions perhaps person pleasure poem poet poetical poetry Pope praise Quà quæ Quarles reason recollect religion revelation RUMINATOR sæpe says scene scenery Scottish highlands sensibility sentiments sion song SONNET soul Sperchius spirit sublime supposed sweet taste thee thou thought tion translation true truth umbris verse virtue wild William Habington write
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Стр. 201 - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude ; 'tis but to hold Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd.
Стр. 306 - Love had he found in huts where poor Men lie, His daily Teachers had been Woods and Rills, The silence that is in the starry sky, The sleep that is among the lonely hills. In him the savage Virtue of the Race, Revenge, and all ferocious thoughts were dead : Nor did he change ; but kept in lofty place The wisdom which adversity had bred. Glad were the Vales, and every cottage hearth ; The Shepherd Lord was honoured more and more: And, ages after he was laid in earth, " The Good Lord Clifford
Стр. ix - Alas ! regardless of their doom, The little victims play! No sense have they of Ills to come; Nor Care, beyond to-day! Yet see, how all around them wait The Ministers of human fate; And black Misfortune's baleful Train!
Стр. viii - Meanwhile, whate'er of beautiful, or new, Sublime, or dreadful, in earth, sea, or sky, By chance, or search, was offer'd to his view, He scan'd with curious and romantic eye.
Стр. 306 - Scot," exclaims the Lance, Bear me to the heart of France, Is the longing of the Shield — Tell thy name, thou trembling Field ; Field of death, where'er thou be, Groan thou with our victory ! Happy day, and mighty hour, When our Shepherd, in his power, Mailed and horsed, with lance and sword, To his Ancestors restored, Like a re-appearing Star, Like a glory from afar, First shall head the Flock of War...
Стр. 159 - I never framed a wish, or formed a plan, That flattered me with hopes of earthly bliss, But there I laid the scene. There early strayed My fancy, ere yet liberty of choice Had found me, or the hope of being free. My very dreams were rural, rural too...
Стр. 305 - Now another day is come, Fitter hope, and nobler doom; He hath thrown aside his crook, And hath buried deep his book; Armour rusting in his halls On the blood of Clifford calls: 'Quell the Scot! ' exclaims the Lance; 'Bear me to the heart of France...
Стр. 218 - Tis not, as heads that never ache suppose, Forgery of fancy and a dream of woes ; Man is a harp whose chords elude the sight, Each yielding harmony, disposed aright, The screws reversed, (a task which if he please God in a moment executes with ease,) Ten thousand thousand strings at once go loose, Lost, till he tune them, all their power and use.
Стр. 43 - Or like the borealis race, That flit ere you can point their place; Or like the rainbow's lovely form Evanishing amid the storm. Nae man can tether time or tide; The hour approaches Tarn maun ride — That hour o...
Стр. 51 - By him lay heavy Sleep, the cousin of Death, Flat on the ground, and still as any stone, A very corpse, save yielding forth a breath : Small keep took he, whom Fortune frowned on, Or whom she lifted up into the throne Of high renown ; but, as a living death, So, dead alive, of life he drew the breath.