The Indicator, المجلد 1Leigh Hunt J. Appleyard, 1820 |
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الصفحة 8
... eyes their darkest hue . Then as those bright orbs require , Fetch her eyesight out of fire ; Like Minerva's , sparkling blue ; Moist , like Cytherea's , too : Give her nose and cheeks a tint Like shallow milk with roses in't : Let her ...
... eyes their darkest hue . Then as those bright orbs require , Fetch her eyesight out of fire ; Like Minerva's , sparkling blue ; Moist , like Cytherea's , too : Give her nose and cheeks a tint Like shallow milk with roses in't : Let her ...
الصفحة 25
... eye : Now this , now that , he tasteth tenderly . - SPENSER . No. IV . - WEDNESDAY , NOVEMBER 3d , 1819 . THE BEAU MISER ... eyes a little shut and lowering , a small nose , and a very long chin . But he dressed ex- tremely well ; had a ...
... eye : Now this , now that , he tasteth tenderly . - SPENSER . No. IV . - WEDNESDAY , NOVEMBER 3d , 1819 . THE BEAU MISER ... eyes a little shut and lowering , a small nose , and a very long chin . But he dressed ex- tremely well ; had a ...
الصفحة 27
Leigh Hunt. which she shewed one day with the tears in her eyes , though she was then happy enough : - " I leave you no money , my dear child ; I am dying , and you are wealthy enough , and money is not the thing wanted by either of us ...
Leigh Hunt. which she shewed one day with the tears in her eyes , though she was then happy enough : - " I leave you no money , my dear child ; I am dying , and you are wealthy enough , and money is not the thing wanted by either of us ...
الصفحة 39
... eyes Dread shapes of gods , and Phrygian deities , The great Penates ; whom with reverent joy I bore from out the heart of burning Troy . Plainly I saw them , standing in the light Which the moon poured into the room that night . And ...
... eyes Dread shapes of gods , and Phrygian deities , The great Penates ; whom with reverent joy I bore from out the heart of burning Troy . Plainly I saw them , standing in the light Which the moon poured into the room that night . And ...
الصفحة 49
... eye : Now this , now that , he tasteth tenderly . - SPENSER . No. VII . - WEDNESDAY , NOVEMBER 24th , 1819 . LUDICROUS ... eyes of others . It is for this reason that jests in company are sometimes built up by one hand after another ...
... eye : Now this , now that , he tasteth tenderly . - SPENSER . No. VII . - WEDNESDAY , NOVEMBER 24th , 1819 . LUDICROUS ... eyes of others . It is for this reason that jests in company are sometimes built up by one hand after another ...
طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
admiration Alcmena appears Ariosto arriving round beautiful Ben Jonson better body busie curious eye C. H. Reynell called Catherine-street Cephalus Chaucer Dæmon death delight divine doth flie face fair fancy Farinonna father favourite fear feel flowers Galatea gentle gentleman give grace hand happy head heard heart heaven honour horse human imagination INDICATOR Italian Joseph Appleyard kind king kiss lady Lamia lived look Lord lover melancholy mind nature never Newsmen night nymph Orders received Ovid pain perhaps Petrarch pleasant pleasure poet poetry Printed by C. H. Procris Pygmalion reader Rhampsinitus round about doth seems Shakspeare shew sleep speak SPENSER spirit stick story survey with busie sweet takes survey Tasso tasteth tenderly Tavistock tears tell thee Theocritus thing thou thought told Triptolemus Turks turn Venice voice word young
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 3 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank* Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines...
الصفحة 347 - Saturn, quiet as a stone, Still as the silence round about his lair ; Forest on forest hung about his head Like cloud on cloud. No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass, But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.
الصفحة 344 - Until the poppied warmth of sleep oppress'd Her soothed limbs, and soul fatigued away : Flown, like a thought, until the morrow-day ; Blissfully haven'd both from joy and pain ; Clasp'd like a missal where swart Paynims pray ; Blinded alike from sunshine and from rain, As though a rose should shut, and be a bud again.
الصفحة 347 - As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu ! adieu ! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades : Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — do I wake or sleep?
الصفحة 345 - Ode to a Nightingale MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk : Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
الصفحة 88 - THE fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the Ocean, The winds of Heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one spirit meet and mingle. Why not I with thine?
الصفحة 347 - There was a listening fear in her regard, As if calamity had but begun; As if the vanward clouds of evil days Had spent their malice, and the sullen rear Was with its stored thunder labouring up.
الصفحة 11 - Give me leave To enjoy myself : that place that does contain My books, the best companions, is to me A glorious court, where hourly I converse With the old sages and philosophers ; And sometimes, for variety, I confer With kings and emperors, and weigh their counsels ; Calling their victories, if unjustly got, Unto a strict account, and, in my fancy, Deface their ill-plac'd statues.
الصفحة 44 - The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage! My Shakespeare, rise! I will not lodge thee by Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie A little further, to make thee a room: Thou art a monument without a tomb, And art alive still while thy book doth live And we have wits to read and praise to give.
الصفحة 189 - Sirens' harmony, That sit upon the nine infolded spheres, And sing to those that hold the vital shears, And turn the adamantine spindle round, On which the fate of Gods and men is wound. Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie, To lull the daughters of Necessity, And keep unsteady Nature to her law, And the low world in measured motion draw After the heavenly tune, which none can hear Of human mould, with gross unpurged ear...