The Ruminator: Containing a Series of Moral, Critical, and Sentimental Essays, Том 2Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, 1813 |
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Стр. 2
... produced by the fervour of genius . Books are in general little more than transcripts of those which went before them , with a little dif- ference of arrangement and combination : the same ingredients only poured into new vessels ...
... produced by the fervour of genius . Books are in general little more than transcripts of those which went before them , with a little dif- ference of arrangement and combination : the same ingredients only poured into new vessels ...
Стр. 21
... produce eminence in the higher orders of composition , that I trust a failure may be incurred without disgrace , while the value of a happy performance ought to be enhanced . Of those , on whom Nature has bestowed gifts sufficiently ...
... produce eminence in the higher orders of composition , that I trust a failure may be incurred without disgrace , while the value of a happy performance ought to be enhanced . Of those , on whom Nature has bestowed gifts sufficiently ...
Стр. 32
... produced Eschylus's description of the figures painted on the shields of some of the Grecian heroes . It must be admitted , that they appear very like a modern coat of arms . These passages are alluded to by Spel- man ; but as I do not ...
... produced Eschylus's description of the figures painted on the shields of some of the Grecian heroes . It must be admitted , that they appear very like a modern coat of arms . These passages are alluded to by Spel- man ; but as I do not ...
Стр. 41
... produced , they jumble them together in an association so unnatural , as to retain no part of the charms which the originals possessed . We see similar defects every day exhibited in pictures ; we see glaring colours , distorted ...
... produced , they jumble them together in an association so unnatural , as to retain no part of the charms which the originals possessed . We see similar defects every day exhibited in pictures ; we see glaring colours , distorted ...
Стр. 45
... produced , than the compositions of any . other author . On the other hand they are , I think , deficient in some ingredients , which constitute the very first charms of poetry . Let me be forgiven , if with a love of this great poet ...
... produced , than the compositions of any . other author . On the other hand they are , I think , deficient in some ingredients , which constitute the very first charms of poetry . Let me be forgiven , if with a love of this great poet ...
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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.