American Quarterly Review, 19 tomasRobert Walsh Carey, Lea & Carey, 1836 |
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Rezultatai 1–5 iš 56
3 psl.
... labour , knowing , that , as his mind glows , its warmth is diffused through a thousand others ; that in distant countries he has form- ed friendships liable to none of the change a personal acquaint- ance with its rivalry , or the base ...
... labour , knowing , that , as his mind glows , its warmth is diffused through a thousand others ; that in distant countries he has form- ed friendships liable to none of the change a personal acquaint- ance with its rivalry , or the base ...
16 psl.
... labour . The struggle with him , even to bear existence , had been too constant and agonising ; his misery had been too acute and too crushing to allow of his marring his last hours , which may be considered only as an interval of ...
... labour . The struggle with him , even to bear existence , had been too constant and agonising ; his misery had been too acute and too crushing to allow of his marring his last hours , which may be considered only as an interval of ...
17 psl.
... labour , where he made himself the cotemporary of all future time , seems to us a waste . And yet it is but a proof how little we are able to judge of the workings of a great mind , or determine what will be the results of its internal ...
... labour , where he made himself the cotemporary of all future time , seems to us a waste . And yet it is but a proof how little we are able to judge of the workings of a great mind , or determine what will be the results of its internal ...
18 psl.
... labour with strength and fidelity , and are not apt to allow the chain of thought to become disunited , or their subject to disappear in the obscure rambling of remote associa- tion , and fade like a dream . They grasp firmly , and ...
... labour with strength and fidelity , and are not apt to allow the chain of thought to become disunited , or their subject to disappear in the obscure rambling of remote associa- tion , and fade like a dream . They grasp firmly , and ...
24 psl.
... success , or however terrible the terms on which we labour . There is a love of re- pose , a sweetness in inaction , after the mind has traversed a * wide circle of thought , though there appear no 24 [ March , Coleridge .
... success , or however terrible the terms on which we labour . There is a love of re- pose , a sweetness in inaction , after the mind has traversed a * wide circle of thought , though there appear no 24 [ March , Coleridge .
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action admiration American animal appear beautiful become Bulwer Canova character Charles Lamb circumstances citizens commerce common common law constitution court court of chancery courts of equity Donna Sol Duc d'Orléans duties effect England English equal excited exertion existence favour feeling France frigates genius give heart Hernani honour human imagination individual influence intellect interest JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE judge justice labour legislation legislature liberty live means ment mind mode moral nation nature navy never object officers opinion Papinian partnership party passed passion peace peculiar Pennsylvania persons poet poetry political popular possess present prime meridian principles quadrupeds racter readers result revolution Rienzi scene ships society sonnet soul special partner spirit taste thing thou thought tion truth Venice vessels Victor Hugo whole William Wordsworth writer
Populiarios ištraukos
431 psl. - tis true, I have gone here and there, And made myself a motley to the view, Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear, Made old offences of affections new.
432 psl. - In me. thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west ; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed whereon it must expire, Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by. This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong, To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
424 psl. - Will murmur by the hour in foxglove bells: In truth the prison, unto which we doom Ourselves, no prison is: and hence for me, In sundry moods, 'twas pastime to be bound Within the Sonnet's scanty plot of ground; Pleased if some Souls (for such there needs must be) Who have felt the weight of too much liberty, Should find brief solace there, as I have found.
425 psl. - s not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come ; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
426 psl. - When, in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries And look upon myself and curse my fate. Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd, Desiring this man's art and that man's scope.
108 psl. - Tears fell, when thou wert dying, From eyes unused to weep, And long where thou art lying Will tears the cold turf steep. When hearts, whose truth was proven Like thine, are laid in earth, There should a wreath be woven, To tell the world their worth...
430 psl. - It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration; the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity; The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the Sea: Listen!
277 psl. - I do remember well the hour which burst My spirit's sleep : a fresh May-dawn it was, When I walked forth upon the glittering grass, And wept, I knew not why ; until there rose From the near schoolroom, voices, that, alas ! Were but one echo from a world of woes — The harsh and grating strife of tyrants and of foes.
278 psl. - While yet a boy I sought for ghosts, and sped Through many a listening chamber, cave and ruin, And starlight wood, with fearful steps pursuing Hopes of high talk with the departed dead.
108 psl. - From eyes unused to weep, And long where thou art lying, Will tears the cold turf steep. When hearts, whose truth was proven, Like thine, are laid in earth, There should a wreath be woven To tell the world their worth. And I, who woke each morrow To clasp thy hand in mine, Who shared thy joy and sorrow, Whose weal and woe were thine: It should be mine to braid it Around thy faded brow, But I've in vain essayed it, And feel I cannot now.