A Second Gallery of Literary PortraitsJ. Hogg, 1850 - 429 psl. |
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Rezultatai 1–5 iš 57
17 psl.
... sweet village of Comrie . And even the rainbow , when you see it at the end of a dirty street , loses caste , though not colour , and can hardly pass for a relation to that arch of God , which seems erected by the hands of angels , for ...
... sweet village of Comrie . And even the rainbow , when you see it at the end of a dirty street , loses caste , though not colour , and can hardly pass for a relation to that arch of God , which seems erected by the hands of angels , for ...
18 psl.
... sweet Jesus ! dear Jesus ! " - no effusions of pious sentimentalism , like certain herbs , too sweet to be whole- some ; but a strain which might have been sung by the angelic host on the plains of Bethlehem , and rehearsed by the ...
... sweet Jesus ! dear Jesus ! " - no effusions of pious sentimentalism , like certain herbs , too sweet to be whole- some ; but a strain which might have been sung by the angelic host on the plains of Bethlehem , and rehearsed by the ...
29 psl.
... this is a wilderness of sweets . There are roses in it , but there are also forests . There are soft vales , but there are also mountains . There are rippling , dancing streams ; but there is also a large , grave JOHN MILTON . 29.
... this is a wilderness of sweets . There are roses in it , but there are also forests . There are soft vales , but there are also mountains . There are rippling , dancing streams ; but there is also a large , grave JOHN MILTON . 29.
46 psl.
... " rolled him as a sweet morsel under his tongue ; " or rather , if you believe himself , took him as a drastic dose , to purify his bilious and unhappy nature , by the strongest contrasted element that he could find . 46 LORD BYRON .
... " rolled him as a sweet morsel under his tongue ; " or rather , if you believe himself , took him as a drastic dose , to purify his bilious and unhappy nature , by the strongest contrasted element that he could find . 46 LORD BYRON .
70 psl.
... sweet odour in the evil savours of putrefying misery and crime . This delight , however , is not an in- human , but entirely an artistic delight — perhaps , indeed , springing from the very strength and width of his sympa- thies . We ...
... sweet odour in the evil savours of putrefying misery and crime . This delight , however , is not an in- human , but entirely an artistic delight — perhaps , indeed , springing from the very strength and width of his sympa- thies . We ...
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Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
admiration amid beautiful Bulwer burning Byron called calm Carlyle character Christianity Cobbett Coleridge Crabbe criticism dark death deep divine Dr Johnson dream earnest earth Edinburgh Review eloquent Emerson eternal Eugene Aram fancy feeling Festus fire Foster genius George Dawson gloom Goethe grandeur heart heaven hell human humour imagination intellect Isaac Taylor John Sterling language lectures Leigh Hunt less light literary living Lochnagar look Macaulay melancholy Milton mind misery moral nature never night Paradise Paradise Lost passion peculiar poems poet poetical poetry popular praise profound prophet prose racter religion Sartor Resartus seems sense shadow Shakspere Shelley silent sincere song sorrow soul speak spirit spring stand stars strong style sublime sweet sympathy tears thing Thomas Carlyle Thomas Macaulay thou thought tion true truth verse vision voice Voltaire William Cobbett wonder words Wordsworth writings
Populiarios ištraukos
225 psl. - Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows ; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die. It may be that the gulfs will wash us down : It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles whom we knew. Tho' much is taken, much abides ; and tho...
19 psl. - The Oracles are dumb ; No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. No nightly trance, or breathed spell, Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
50 psl. - And thus I saw the horses in the vision, and them that sat on them, having breastplates of fire, and of jacinth, and brimstone: and the heads of the horses were as the heads of lions : and out of their mouths issued fire and smoke and brimstone.
227 psl. - And one : * He had not wholly quench'd his power; A little grain of conscience made him sour.' At last I heard a voice upon the slope Cry to the summit, ' Is there any hope ? ' To which an answer peal'd from that high land, But in a tongue no man could understand ; And on the glimmering limit far withdrawn God made Himself an awful rose of dawn.
32 psl. - Adam the goodliest man of men since born His sons, the fairest of her daughters Eve.
378 psl. - Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant ! Let the dead Past bury its dead ! Act, — act in the living Present ! Heart within, and God o'erhead ! /!Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time ; Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again.
44 psl. - Never, lago. Like to the Pontic sea, Whose icy current and compulsive course Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on To the Propontic and the Hellespont ; Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace, Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love, Till that a capable and wide revenge Swallow them up. Now, by yond marble heaven, In the due reverence of a sacred vow [Kneels.
20 psl. - I took it for a faery vision Of some gay creatures of the element, That in the colours of the rainbow live, And play i
282 psl. - Will the unicorn be willing to serve thee, Or abide by thy crib? Canst thou bind the unicorn with his band in the furrow? Or will he harrow the valleys after thee?
96 psl. - Thy habitation from eternity! 0 dread and silent Mount! I gazed upon thee, Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, Didst vanish from my thought : entranced in prayer 1 worshipped the Invisible alone. Yet, like some sweet beguiling melody, So sweet, we know not we are listening to it...