Greater London: A Narrative of Its History, Its People, and Its Places, المجلد 1

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الصفحة 101 - Dryden knew more of man in his general nature, and Pope in his local manners. The notions of Dryden were formed by comprehensive speculation ; those of Pope by minute attention. There is more dignity in the knowledge of Dryden, and more certainty in that of Pope.
الصفحة 274 - Mickle, the translator of the Lusiad, and I, went to visit him at this place a few days afterwards. He was not at home ; but having a curiosity to see his apartment, we went in, and found curious scraps of descriptions of animals, scrawled upon the wall with a black lead pencil.
الصفحة 104 - First follow Nature, and your judgment frame By her just standard, which is still the same...
الصفحة 291 - Another age shall see the golden ear Imbrown the slope, and nod on the parterre, Deep harvests bury all his pride has plann'd, And laughing Ceres reassume the land.
الصفحة 290 - Light quirks of music, broken and uneven, Make the soul dance upon a jig to heaven. On painted ceilings you devoutly stare, Where sprawl the saints of Verrio or Laguerre, On gilded clouds in fair expansion lie, And bring all paradise before your eye. To rest, the cushion and soft dean invite, Who never mentions hell to ears polite.
الصفحة 189 - Thames's banks, which fragrant breezes fill, Or where ye Muses sport on Cooper's hill. (On Cooper's hill eternal wreaths shall grow, While lasts the mountain, or while Thames shall flow). I seem through consecrated walks to rove ; I hear soft music die along the grove : Led by the sound, I roam from shade to shade, By godlike poets venerable made : Here his first lays majestic Denham sung ; There the last numbers flow'd from Cowley's tongue.
الصفحة 144 - In full-blown dignity, see Wolsey stand, Law in his voice, and fortune in his hand...
الصفحة 147 - O father abbot, An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye ; Give him a little earth for charity...
الصفحة 200 - I now hold the pen for my Lord Bolingbroke, who is reading your letter between two haycocks; but his attention is somewhat diverted, by casting his eyes on the clouds, not in admiration of what you say, but for fear of a shower.
الصفحة 189 - O could I flow like thee, and make thy stream My great example, as it is my theme! Though deep, yet clear, though gentle, yet not dull, Strong without rage, without o'er-flowing full.

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