The Life of John RuskinHoughton, Mifflin, 1902 - 427 psl. |
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16 psl.
... period of his middle life ; and in the old home , handed over to his adopted daughter , he still used to find his own rooms ready when he cared to visit London . So he was brought up almost as a country boy , though near enough to town ...
... period of his middle life ; and in the old home , handed over to his adopted daughter , he still used to find his own rooms ready when he cared to visit London . So he was brought up almost as a country boy , though near enough to town ...
22 psl.
... period of versifica- tion was his father - the household deity of both wife and child , whose chief delight was in his daily return from the city , and in his reading to them in the drawing - room at Herne Hill . John was packed into a ...
... period of versifica- tion was his father - the household deity of both wife and child , whose chief delight was in his daily return from the city , and in his reading to them in the drawing - room at Herne Hill . John was packed into a ...
25 psl.
... period . The subject of it was a battle between the Pretender , or " Chevalier , " as Harry would have him called , and the forces , or part of the forces , of George II . All the poems that he had hitherto presented to his father were ...
... period . The subject of it was a battle between the Pretender , or " Chevalier , " as Harry would have him called , and the forces , or part of the forces , of George II . All the poems that he had hitherto presented to his father were ...
35 psl.
... period ; but the Ruskins made the round of Kent in 1831 , and though the drawings are by no means in the master's style , they show some practice in using the pencil . The journey was extended by the old route , conditioned by business ...
... period ; but the Ruskins made the round of Kent in 1831 , and though the drawings are by no means in the master's style , they show some practice in using the pencil . The journey was extended by the old route , conditioned by business ...
37 psl.
... period , is that song in which our boy - poet poured forth his longing for the ' blue hills ' he had loved as a baby , and for those Coniston crags over which , when he became old and sorely stricken , he was still to see the morning ...
... period , is that song in which our boy - poet poured forth his longing for the ' blue hills ' he had loved as a baby , and for those Coniston crags over which , when he became old and sorely stricken , he was still to see the morning ...
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admiration afterwards Alps architecture artists beautiful Brantwood Carlyle Chamouni CHAPTER Church College colour Coniston criticism Denmark Hill Deucalion Domecq drawing early Edinburgh engraving father feeling friends geology give Gothic Greek Guild Harlech Castle Herne Hill honour hope illustrated imitated interest J. C. LOUDON J. M. W. Turner John Ruskin Kata Phusin labour lady landscape later lecture letters London look masters Millais mind Miss Modern Painters Mont Blanc morning mother mountains Museum National Gallery Nature never Oxford painting paper picture poems poet poetry Præterita Pre-Raphaelite printed Professor Prout published readers reprinted Rossetti seemed sent Seven Lamps sketches Society Stones of Venice style summer teaching things thought Tintoret took tour Turner Unto this Last verse volume wanted writing wrote young
Populiarios ištraukos
92 psl. - PAINTERS : Their Superiority in the ART of LANDSCAPE PAINTING to all the Ancient Masters, proved by examples of the True, the Beautiful, and the Intellectual, from the Works of Modern Artists, especially from those of JM Turner, Esq., RA By a GRADUATE of OXFORD.
404 psl. - As the Lord liveth, and as thy soul liveth, I will not leave thee. So they came to Jericho. And the sons of the prophets that were at Jericho came to Elisha, and said unto him, Knowest thou that the Lord will take away thy master from thy head to-day ? And he answered, Yea, I know it ; hold ye your peace.
119 psl. - I STOOD in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs ; A palace and a prison on each hand : I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand...
384 psl. - And it shall come to pass in that day, that the light shall not be clear, nor dark: But it shall be one day which shall be known to the LORD, not day nor night: but it shall come to pass, that at evening time it shall be light.
192 psl. - I am still very unwell, and tormented between the longing for rest and lovely life, and the sense of this terrific call of human crime for resistance and of human misery for help, though it seems to me as the voice of a river of blood which can but sweep me down in the midst of its black clots, helpless.
246 psl. - Thy Father has written for thee." " Come, wander with me," she said, " Into regions yet untrod ; And read what is still unread In the manuscripts of God." And he wandered away and away With Nature, the dear old nurse, Who sang to him night and day The rhymes of the universe. And whenever the way seemed long, Or his heart began to fail, She would sing a more wonderful song, Or tell a more marvellous tale.
79 psl. - One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can. Sweet is the lore which Nature brings ; Our meddling intellect Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things : We murder to dissect. Enough of Science and of Art ; Close up those barren leaves ; Come forth, and bring with you a heart That watches and receives.
47 psl. - Many-coloured mists are floating above the distant city, but such mists as. you might imagine to be aetherial spirits, souls of the mighty dead breathed out of the tombs of Italy into the blue of her bright heaven, and wandering in vague and infinite glory around the earth that they have loved. Instinct with the beauty of uncertain light, they move and mingle among the pale stars, and rise up into the brightness of the illimitable heaven, whose soft, sad blue eye gazes down into the deep waters of...
164 psl. - I cannot begin writing poetry till my imaginary reader has conceded licences to me which you demur at altogether. I know that I don't make out my conception by my language; all poetry being a putting the infinite within the finite.
128 psl. - Mr. Ruskin seems to me one of the few genuine writers, as distinguished from book-makers, of this age. His earnestness even amuses me in certain passages ; for I cannot help laughing to think how utilitarians will fume and fret over his deep, serious (and as they will think), fanatical reverence for Art. That pure and severe mind you ascribed to him speaks in every line. He writes like a consecrated Priest of the Abstract and Ideal. " I shall bring with me