Wordsworth, Shelley, Keats, and Other EssaysMacmillan and Company, 1874 - 305 страница |
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Страница 12
... called category of genius in one united mass above all that rank only in the category of talent ? For , though we may grant the reality of some such distinction as is implied between the two substantives , is it not clear that the ...
... called category of genius in one united mass above all that rank only in the category of talent ? For , though we may grant the reality of some such distinction as is implied between the two substantives , is it not clear that the ...
Страница 13
... called ordinary cerebral vigour , so the eighteenth century , though admitted to have been unpoetic , may have been a very respectable century notwithstanding ; and , even were we to exclude Pope from the class of poets ( which most ...
... called ordinary cerebral vigour , so the eighteenth century , though admitted to have been unpoetic , may have been a very respectable century notwithstanding ; and , even were we to exclude Pope from the class of poets ( which most ...
Страница 16
... called poetic diction , thus begetting that exag- gerated antithesis between poetry and prose with which our language is still infected . Instead of regarding the poetic faculty as consisting in a mode or attitude of the mind ...
... called poetic diction , thus begetting that exag- gerated antithesis between poetry and prose with which our language is still infected . Instead of regarding the poetic faculty as consisting in a mode or attitude of the mind ...
Страница 21
... called this fact to mind : - Huge Criffel's hoary top ascends , By Skiddaw seen , - Neighbours we were , and loving friends We might have been . " When Burns died , at the age of thirty - seven , Words- worth was a young man of twenty ...
... called this fact to mind : - Huge Criffel's hoary top ascends , By Skiddaw seen , - Neighbours we were , and loving friends We might have been . " When Burns died , at the age of thirty - seven , Words- worth was a young man of twenty ...
Страница 28
... called language of real life . And it must inevitably be so . For , in the first place , the mere application of the negative principle of modification laid down by Words- worth would amount to an abandonment of the point at issue ...
... called language of real life . And it must inevitably be so . For , in the first place , the mere application of the negative principle of modification laid down by Words- worth would amount to an abandonment of the point at issue ...
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Aristotle Bacon Baconian theories beauty Burns Byron called character CHARLES KINGSLEY Chaucer circumstance Coleridge concrete consists creation creative critics Dallas delight distinct Dugald Stewart earth Edinburgh Edited England English poetry English poets Essays example expression exquisite eyes fact faculty fancy feeling FRANCIS TURNER PALGRAVE friends genius habit Hampstead Hampstead Heath hand historical Homer human Hume ideal imagery imitation impassioned incident intellectual Keats kind language Leigh Hunt Lerici less literary literature living London Lord Cockburn lyrical matter meaning metre metrical Milton mode nation nature objects oinois original passages passion peculiar phantasies philosophy phrase physiognomy pleasure poems Poesy poet poetic poetry prose prose-writer pure Quincey rhyme rich scenes Scotchmen Scotland Scott seems sense sensuous Shakespeare Shelley Shelley's Sir William Hamilton song soul speculation Spenser spirit tendency theory things thou thought tion true universe verse whole words Wordsworth writings
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Страница 131 - Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is : What if my leaves are falling like its own ! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, spirit fierce, My spirit ! Be thou me, impetuous one ! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth...
Страница 278 - 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 of bright gold; There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins: Such harmony is in immortal souls; But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.
Страница 131 - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
Страница 41 - Man that is born of woman is of few days and full of trouble. He cometh forth like a flower and is cut down ; he fleeth also as a shadow and continueth not.
Страница 230 - Gently o'er the accustomed oak; Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly, Most musical, most melancholy! Thee, chantress, oft, the woods among, I woo to hear thy even-song; And missing thee, I walk unseen On the dry smooth-shaven green...
Страница 149 - REMEMBER now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them...
Страница 253 - To daily fraud, contempt, abuse, and wrong, Within doors, or without, still as a fool, In power of others, never in my own — Scarce half I seem to live, dead more than half.
Страница 189 - The use of this feigned history hath been to give some shadow of satisfaction to the mind of man in those points wherein the nature of things doth deny it, the world being in proportion inferior to the soul...
Страница 52 - Nuns fret not at their convent's narrow room ; And hermits are contented with their cells ; And students with their pensive citadels ; Maids at the wheel, the weaver at his loom, Sit blithe and happy ; bees that soar for bloom High as the highest peak of Furness-fells Will murmur by the hour in foxglove bells : In truth, the prison unto which we doom Ourselves no prison is...
Страница 51 - Then up I rose, And dragged to earth, both branch and bough with crash And merciless ravage, and the shady nook Of hazels, and the green and mossy bower, Deformed and sullied, patiently gave up Their quiet being...