CriticismPutnam, 1902 |
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Strona 14
... thou ? " he gently said ; " I love thee well , be not afraid . ” He takes her hand and leads her on- She should have waited there alone , For he was not her chosen one . He leans her head upon his breast- She knew ' 14 The Literati.
... thou ? " he gently said ; " I love thee well , be not afraid . ” He takes her hand and leads her on- She should have waited there alone , For he was not her chosen one . He leans her head upon his breast- She knew ' 14 The Literati.
Strona 15
... thou canst not bear- Cannot the dragon's venom dare— Of the pure meed thou shouldst despair . Now sadder that lone maiden sighs ; Far bitterer tears profane her eyes ; Crushed in the dust her heart's flower lies . To show the evident ...
... thou canst not bear- Cannot the dragon's venom dare— Of the pure meed thou shouldst despair . Now sadder that lone maiden sighs ; Far bitterer tears profane her eyes ; Crushed in the dust her heart's flower lies . To show the evident ...
Strona 34
... : Earth hath no language , love , befitting thee ; For its own children it hath pliant speech ; And mortals know to call a blossom fair , A wavelet graceful , and a jewel rich ; But thou ! oh , teach me , sweet , 34 The Literati.
... : Earth hath no language , love , befitting thee ; For its own children it hath pliant speech ; And mortals know to call a blossom fair , A wavelet graceful , and a jewel rich ; But thou ! oh , teach me , sweet , 34 The Literati.
Strona 35
... thou didst leave its bowers To bloom below ! To this Elfrida replies : If Athelwood should hear thee ! And to this , Edgar : Name not the felon knave to me , Elfrida ! My soul is flame whene'er I think of him . Thou lovest him not ? —oh ...
... thou didst leave its bowers To bloom below ! To this Elfrida replies : If Athelwood should hear thee ! And to this , Edgar : Name not the felon knave to me , Elfrida ! My soul is flame whene'er I think of him . Thou lovest him not ? —oh ...
Strona 36
... thou wilt smile upon the passionate love That thou alone canst waken ! Let me hope ! Mad . Hush ! hush ! I may not hear thee . Know'st thou not I am betrothed ? Strang . Alas ! too well I know ; But I could tell thee such a tale of him ...
... thou wilt smile upon the passionate love That thou alone canst waken ! Let me hope ! Mad . Hush ! hush ! I may not hear thee . Know'st thou not I am betrothed ? Strang . Alas ! too well I know ; But I could tell thee such a tale of him ...
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admirable American anapæsts artist beauty better called character composition convey critic Doctor Johnson doubt dreams Edward Lytton effect Elfrida English entitled especially excellent existence eyes Fable fact fancy feel genius give grace Graham's Magazine grammar Greek Headley heart heaven Hirst Hudibras iambus idea Idumea Iliad imagination imitation intellect James Russell Lowell less light lines literary look Lowell magazine man-bats manner matter means merely merit Mesmeric Revelation mind Miss Fuller moon nature never novel Old Curiosity Shop opinion original passages passion perhaps person Petrarch phrase poem poet poetical poetry prose published reader regard rhyme rhythm satire seems sense sentence soul speak spirit spondee story style sure syllables talent talk thee thing thou thought tion topic trochee true truth Undine verse versification volume whole William Cobbett words write written York Mirror
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 254 - En vain contre le Cid un ministre se ligue : Tout Paris pour Chimène a les yeux de Rodrigue.
Strona 161 - Friend to my life, (which did not you prolong, The world had wanted many an idle song) What drop or nostrum can this plague remove?
Strona 161 - On a rock whose haughty brow Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood, Robed in the sable garb of woe, With haggard eyes the poet stood (Loose his beard, and hoary hair Streamed like a meteor to the troubled air), And with a master's hand, and prophet's fire, Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre.
Strona 314 - Even the bright extremes of joy Bring on conclusions of disgust, Like the sweet blossoms of the May, . Whose fragrance ends in must. O, give her, then, her tribute just, Her sighs and tears, and musings holy ! There is no music in the life That sounds with idiot laughter solely ; There's not a string attuned to mirth, But has its chord in Melancholy.
Strona 316 - O'er all there hung a shadow and a fear, A sense of mystery the spirit daunted, And said, as plain as whisper in the ear, The place is haunted...
Strona 340 - The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me, That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
Strona 195 - Now, so entire is my faith in the power of words, that, at times, I have believed it possible to embody even the evanescence of fancies such as I have attempted to describe.
Strona 354 - The principle of the vis inertia;, for example, seems to be identical in physics and metaphysics. It is not more true in the former, that a large body is with more difficulty set in motion than a smaller one, and that its subsequent...
Strona 127 - And star-dials pointed to morn As the star-dials hinted of morn At the end of our path a liquescent And nebulous lustre was born, Out of which a miraculous crescent Arose with a duplicate horn Astarte's bediamonded crescent Distinct with its duplicate horn.
Strona 163 - For he who fights and runs away May live to fight another day ; But he who is in battle slain Can never rise and fight again.