Flowers for All SeasonsPartridge, 1854 - 312 страница |
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Страница 17
... memory was strong as were my passions . I had no need of laborious application . What I once read , and read with attention , I seldom for- got . Will it be believed that , gifted as I was with 2 B so retentive a mind , my advancement ...
... memory was strong as were my passions . I had no need of laborious application . What I once read , and read with attention , I seldom for- got . Will it be believed that , gifted as I was with 2 B so retentive a mind , my advancement ...
Страница 69
... memory . Demon eyes that had been peering at me day and night , fiendish screeches that had been ever yelling in my ears , devilish laughter and impish glee for ever mocking me , flames for ever burning , water for ever receding ...
... memory . Demon eyes that had been peering at me day and night , fiendish screeches that had been ever yelling in my ears , devilish laughter and impish glee for ever mocking me , flames for ever burning , water for ever receding ...
Страница 76
... memory lingers with delight , and calls forth the wish that all else was like this . I ask again , when were you most miserable ? And again I answer for you ; it was when consuming fires of hatred , revenge , or cruelty , were waked up ...
... memory lingers with delight , and calls forth the wish that all else was like this . I ask again , when were you most miserable ? And again I answer for you ; it was when consuming fires of hatred , revenge , or cruelty , were waked up ...
Страница 77
John Bolton Rogerson. 66 memory opens fountains of joy , or brings up vi- sions of grief from the oblivion of the past . I ask , which of you has ever loved a brother or done him a kindness , the recollection of which does not to this ...
John Bolton Rogerson. 66 memory opens fountains of joy , or brings up vi- sions of grief from the oblivion of the past . I ask , which of you has ever loved a brother or done him a kindness , the recollection of which does not to this ...
Страница 79
... memory is at work , and he feels the gnawings of the restless worm . He feels how vile he is , and the pains of hell get hold upon him . Take the thief , who has laid his hands unlawfully upon his neighbour's goods . Behold him ...
... memory is at work , and he feels the gnawings of the restless worm . He feels how vile he is , and the pains of hell get hold upon him . Take the thief , who has laid his hands unlawfully upon his neighbour's goods . Behold him ...
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Alloway Alloway Kirk amongst appeared beautiful became beheld bells Ben Jonson breath bright brother Burns Burns's called cheek cheer companions Comus cottage Countess of Tripoli dark daugh dead dear death delight dream dwelling earth existence eyes fair father feel felt flowers gaze gentle gipsy glad hand happy harvest hath heard heart heaven Helvellyn hour of musing JOHN BOLTON Kirk knew lady land light Lilias Young LINLITHGOW PALACE lips listened live look memory merry Milton mind morning mother never night o'er once Paradise Lost Paradise Regained parents passed Peel Castle poem poet poetry ramble Robert Burns scene seemed Shakspere Shakspere's Shanter sighs sister smile song soul sound spirit Stephen Gray sweet Tam o'Shanter tears thee thine thou wert thought tones Tynwald village voice wandering whilst wife wild wish words Wordsworth youth
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Страница 236 - Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use Of shades and wanton winds and gushing brooks, On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks, Throw hither all your quaint enamelled eyes, That on the green turf suck the honeyed showers, And purple all the ground with vernal flowers.
Страница 250 - AVENGE, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold; Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old, When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones, Forget not; in thy book record their groans Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that rolled Mother with infant down the rocks.
Страница 187 - Yes, trust them not: for there is an upstart crow beautified with our feathers, that with his tiger's heart, wrapt in a player's hide, supposes he is as well able to bombast out a blank verse as the best of you; and being an absolute Johannes factotum, is in his own conceit the only Shake-scene in a country.
Страница 150 - The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace, The big ha' Bible, ance his father's pride. His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside, His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare ; Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, He wales a portion with judicious care ; And " Let us worship God !
Страница 236 - And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, The tufted crow-toe and pale jessamine, The white pink, and the pansy freaked with jet, The glowing violet, The musk-rose, and the well-attired woodbine, With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears ; Bid Amaranthus all his beauty shed, And daffadillies fill their cups with tears, To strew the laureate hearse where Lycid lies.
Страница 234 - In this poem there is no nature, for there is no truth ; there is no art, for there is nothing new. Its form is that of a pastoral ; easy, vulgar, and therefore disgusting ; whatever images it can supply are long ago exhausted ; and its inherent improbability always forces dissatisfaction on the mind. When Cowley tells of Hervey, that they studied together, it is easy to suppose how much he must miss the companion of his labours...
Страница 34 - The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together : our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues.
Страница 158 - The night drave on wi' sangs and clatter; And ay the ale was growing better: The landlady and Tam grew gracious, Wi' favours, secret, sweet, and precious: The souter tauld his queerest stories; The landlord's laugh was ready chorus: The storm without might rair and rustle, Tam did na mind the storm a whistle. Care, mad to see a man sae happy, E'en drown'd himsel amang the nappy: As bees flee hame wi...
Страница 235 - Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights and live laborious days ; But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, And think to burst out into sudden blaze, Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears And slits the thin-spun life. "But not the praise...
Страница 250 - O'er all the Italian fields, where still doth sway The triple Tyrant ; that from these may grow A hundredfold, who, having learnt thy way, Early may fly the Babylonian woe.