The Outline of Literature, المجلد 2John Drinkwater G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1923 - 1136 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 280
... The Lives of the Poets - Johnson's Talk - Oliver Goldsmith - The Traveller - The Citizen of the World - The Vicar of Wakefield - Edmund Burke - Great thoughts in great prose . Contents ON AND OTHER EIGHTEENTH- ROSE - WRITERS · he.
... The Lives of the Poets - Johnson's Talk - Oliver Goldsmith - The Traveller - The Citizen of the World - The Vicar of Wakefield - Edmund Burke - Great thoughts in great prose . Contents ON AND OTHER EIGHTEENTH- ROSE - WRITERS · he.
الصفحة 302
... thought of as very good sport ; one can read that into the origins of our theatre . They were sport of the crudest kind too , more often than not , reeking and echoing with blood and thunder - a melodramatist of to - day would blush for ...
... thought of as very good sport ; one can read that into the origins of our theatre . They were sport of the crudest kind too , more often than not , reeking and echoing with blood and thunder - a melodramatist of to - day would blush for ...
الصفحة 305
... thought of , as it were , in the round . This led to an elaboration of the pageantry of fine dresses and stately movement . The dresses — to sustain such close inspec- tion - had to be fine indeed . Large sums were spent on them . A ...
... thought of , as it were , in the round . This led to an elaboration of the pageantry of fine dresses and stately movement . The dresses — to sustain such close inspec- tion - had to be fine indeed . Large sums were spent on them . A ...
الصفحة 306
... thoughts Think , when we talk of horses , that you see them Printing their proud hoofs in the receiving earth ; For ' tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings , Carry then here and there . " On your imaginary forces work . " That ...
... thoughts Think , when we talk of horses , that you see them Printing their proud hoofs in the receiving earth ; For ' tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings , Carry then here and there . " On your imaginary forces work . " That ...
الصفحة 309
... thoughts very pre- cisely to the emptiness around him the artistic temperature , so to speak , tends to fall . And if it were not that , as a rule , it is the chief actor who is thus burdened , the effect on the play would be perilous ...
... thoughts very pre- cisely to the emptiness around him the artistic temperature , so to speak , tends to fall . And if it were not that , as a rule , it is the chief actor who is thus burdened , the effect on the play would be perilous ...
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Abbey Addison beauty born Boswell Bunyan Burns Byron century character charm Christian Coleridge comedy criticism death Diderot drama dramatist Dryden edition Elizabethan England English essay Everyman's Library eyes famous father Faust French genius Gibbon Goethe Goethe's Goldsmith Gulliver's Travels hath heart Henry Horace Walpole human humour Jane Austen John Johnson Juliet Julius Cæsar Keats King Lady letters lines literary literature lived London Lord Macbeth Milton mind Molière National Portrait Gallery nature never night novel o'er painting passion Pepys Photo Pilgrim's Progress play poems poet poetry prose published Puritan Reproduced by permission Rischgitz Collection ROBERT BURNS Rousseau satire says scene sense Shakespeare Shelley song soul spirit story style sweet Swift Tatler theatre thee things thou thought tion Tristram Shandy verse vols Voltaire W. A. Mansell Walker Art Gallery William words Wordsworth writing written wrote
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الصفحة 386 - Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt. Dispraise or blame, nothing but well and fair. And what may quiet us in a death so noble.
الصفحة 356 - I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine, But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee, As giving it a hope that there It could not wither'd be ; But thou thereon didst only breathe, And sent'st it back to me ; Since when it grows and smells, I swear, Not of itself, but thee.
الصفحة 368 - Going to the Wars Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind, That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. 1 Imprisoned or caged. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honor more.
الصفحة 618 - Stern Lawgiver! yet thou dost wear The Godhead's most benignant grace; Nor know we anything so fair As is the smile upon thy face: Flowers laugh before thee on their beds And fragrance in thy footing treads; Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong; And the most ancient heavens, through thee, Are fresh and strong.
الصفحة 349 - What things have we seen Done at the Mermaid! Heard words that have been So nimble and so full of subtle flame As if that every one from whence they came Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, And had resolved to live a fool the rest Of his dull life.
الصفحة 382 - OF MAN'S first disobedience, and the fruit Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste Brought death into the World, and all our woe, With loss of Eden, till one greater Man Restore us, and regain the blissful seat, Sing, Heavenly Muse...
الصفحة 630 - What the hammer? what the chain? In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp? When the stars threw down their spears And watered heaven with their tears, Did He smile His work to see? Did He who made the lamb make thee?
الصفحة 474 - And he gave it for his opinion, that whoever could make two ears of corn, or two blades of grass to grow upon a spot of ground where only one grew before, would deserve better of mankind, and do more essential service to his country, than the whole race of politicians put together.
الصفحة 351 - If all the pens that ever poets held Had fed the feeling of their masters' thoughts, And every sweetness that inspired their hearts, Their minds and muses on admired themes; If all the heavenly quintessence they still From their immortal flowers of poesy, Wherein as in a mirror we perceive The highest reaches of a human wit; If these had made one poem's period...
الصفحة 385 - How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, Stolen on his wing my three-and-twentieth year ! My hasting days fly on with full career, But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th.