Essays : on self-love

الغلاف الأمامي
Saunders and Otley, 1836
 

المحتوى

I
3
III
73
IV
113
V
195
VI
229
VII
263
VIII
279
IX
321
X
333
XI
361
XII
399
XIII
423
XIV
443

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الصفحة 406 - Let it pry through the portage of the head Like the brass cannon ; let the brow o'erwhelm it As fearfully as doth a galled rock O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean. Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit To his full height.
الصفحة 214 - Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream : The genius, and the mortal instruments, Are then in council; and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection.
الصفحة 405 - In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility : 5 But, when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger...
الصفحة 364 - As he gave out this text, his voice ' rose like a stream of rich distilled perfumes;' and when he came to the two last words, which he pronounced loud, deep, and distinct, it seemed to me, who was then young, as if the sounds had echoed from the bottom of the human heart, and as if that prayer might have floated in solemn silence through the universe. The idea of St. John came into my mind, ' of one crying in the wilderness, who had his loins girt about, and whose food was locusts and wild honey.
الصفحة 85 - Whose honours with increase of ages grow, As streams roll down, enlarging as they flow ; Nations unborn your mighty names shall sound, And worlds applaud that must not yet be found...
الصفحة 344 - But why then publish? Granville the polite, And knowing Walsh, would tell me I could write; Well-natured Garth inflamed with early praise; And Congreve loved, and Swift endured my lays; The courtly Talbot, Somers, Sheffield read; Ev'n mitred Rochester would nod the head, And St. John's self (great Dryden's friends before) With open arms received one poet more.
الصفحة 453 - Fear made her devils, and weak hope her gods; Gods partial, changeful, passionate, unjust, Whose attributes were rage, revenge, or lust; Such as the souls of cowards might conceive, And, form'd like tyrants, tyrants would believe.
الصفحة 272 - On some fond breast the parting soul relies, Some pious drops the closing eye requires; E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of th...
الصفحة 386 - Coleridge's cottage. I think I see him now. He answered in some degree to his friend's description of him, but was more gaunt and Don Quixote-like. He was quaintly dressed (according to the costume of that unconstrained period) in a brown fustian jacket and striped pantaloons. There was something of a roll, a lounge in his gait, not unlike his own
الصفحة 279 - Search then the ruling passion: there, alone, The wild are constant, and the cunning known; The fool consistent, and the false sincere; Priests, princes, women, no dissemblers here.

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