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Oxford University Press, 1906
 

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Страница 260 - This many summers in a sea of glory ; But far beyond my depth ; my high-blown pride At length broke under me ; and now has left me, Weary, and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Страница 71 - Round turned he, as not deigning Those craven ranks to see; Nought spake he to Lars Porsena, To Sextus nought spake he; But he saw on Palatinus The white porch of his home; And he spake to the noble river That rolls by the towers of Rome. 'O Tiber! father Tiber! To whom the Romans pray, A Roman's life, a Roman's arms, Take thou in charge this day...
Страница 60 - The sublime and the ridiculous are often so nearly related that it is difficult to class them separately. One step above the sublime makes the ridiculous, and one step above the ridiculous makes the sublime again...
Страница 307 - This New and Revised Edition comprises additional material and hitherto Unpublished Letters, Sketches, and Drawings, derived from the Author's Original MSS.
Страница 185 - Look, where he comes ! Not poppy, nor mandragora, Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep Which thou ow'dst yesterday.
Страница 71 - 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.
Страница 232 - Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy, he said, was the only book that ever took him out of bed two hours sooner than he wished to rise.
Страница 71 - I do not know that I meet in any of my walks, objects which move both my spleen and laughter so effectually, as those young fellows at the Grecian, Squire's, Searle's, and all other coffee-houses adjacent to the law, who rise early for no other purpose but to publish their laziness.
Страница 195 - Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay, The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, The morn the marshalling in arms, — the day Battle's magnificently stern array ! The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which, when rent, The earth is cover'd thick with other clay, Which her own clay shall cover, heap'd and pent, Rider and horse, — friend, foe, — in one red burial blent...
Страница 85 - For thee in vain with pangs they flow, For mercy dwells not here. " From cannibals thou fled'st in vain ; Lawyers less quarter give ; The first won't eat you till you're slain, The last will do 't alive.

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