Co mówią ludzie - Napisz recenzję
Nie znaleziono żadnych recenzji w standardowych lokalizacjach.
Inne wydania - Wyświetl wszystko
American Anglo-Saxon appeared ballads beautiful became began Ben Jonson Beowulf born Burns called character charm Chaucer chief Childe Harold Coleridge comedy composed compositions critical cultivated death didactic drama England English literature English poetry epic Essay excellent famous feeling French French Revolution genius George German Giaour heart Henry human humour ideal imitators influence James John King Lake poets language later Letitia Elizabeth Landon liberty literary London Lord Byron lyrical Mary middle ages Milton mind modern Monody Moore moral nature Newstead Abbey noble novel passions poem poet poetical poetry political popular principles produced prose published Puritanism Queen reign romance Satan satire Saxon School for Scandal Scotch Scott Shakespeare Shelley Sheridan society songs Southey speech spirit stage style tale talent Thomas tion tragedy translation Venice verse vols Walter Scott William Wordsworth write written wrote
Strona 106 - Thus Satan talking to his nearest mate With head uplift above the wave, and eyes That sparkling blazed; his other parts besides Prone on the flood, extended long and large, Lay floating many a rood...
Strona 102 - Man's first disobedience, and the fruit Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste Brought death into the world, and all our woe, With loss of Eden, till one greater Man Restore us, and regain the blissful seat, Sing, heavenly muse, that on the secret top Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire That shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed, In the beginning, how the heavens and earth Rose out of chaos...
Strona 294 - Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning.
Strona 81 - Tired with all these for restful death I cry, As to behold desert a beggar born, And needy nothing trimmed in jollity, And purest faith unhappily forsworn, And gilded honour shamefully misplaced, And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted, And right perfection wrongfully disgraced, And strength by limping sway disabled And art made tongue-tied by authority, And folly (doctor-like) controlling skill, And simple truth miscalled simplicity, And captive good attending captain ill.
Strona 247 - Her lips were red, her looks were free, Her locks were yellow as gold: Her skin was as white as leprosy, The Night-mare LIFE-IN-DEATH was she, Who thicks man's blood with cold. The naked hulk alongside came, And the twain were casting dice; "The game is done! I've won! I've won!
Strona 246 - See! (I cried) she tacks no more! Hither to work us weal ; Without a breeze, without a tide, She steadies with upright keel! The western wave was all a-flame. The day was well-nigh done ! Almost upon the western wave Rested the broad bright Sun; When that strange shape drove suddenly Betwixt us and the Sun.
Strona 224 - O Caledonia ! stern and wild, meet nurse for a poetic child, • land of brown heath and shaggy wood, land of the mountain and the flood, land of my sires!
Strona 254 - As the sweet moon on the horizon's verge, The maid was on the eve of womanhood; The boy had fewer summers, but his heart Had far outgrown his years, and to his eye There was but one beloved face on earth, And that was shining on him...
Strona 75 - Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion be your tutor: suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature; for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end both at the first, and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure.