Recollections of the Table-talk of Samuel Rogers: To which is Added Porsoniana, Tập 1

Bìa trước
Edward Moxon, 1856 - 345 trang
 

Các trang được chọn

Ấn bản in khác - Xem tất cả

Thuật ngữ và cụm từ thông dụng

Đoạn trích phổ biến

Trang 179 - Life ! we've been long together, Through pleasant and through cloudy weather ; 'Tis hard to part when friends are dear — Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear : — Then steal away, give little warning, Choose thine own time ; Say not ' Good night ' — but in some brighter clime Bid me
Trang 194 - O Woman ! in our hours of ease Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou!
Trang 238 - Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild; Sweet are thy groves, and verdant are thy fields, Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smiled, And still his...
Trang 89 - Happy the man, and happy he alone, He, who can call to-day his own : He who, secure within, can say, To-morrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.
Trang 281 - And if I laugh at any mortal thing, 'Tis that I may not weep...
Trang 150 - Know ye not then, said Satan fill'd with scorn. Know ye not me ? ye knew me once no mate For you, there sitting where ye durst not soar Not to know me argues yourselves unknown, The lowest of your throng; or if ye know, Why ask ye, and superfluous begin Your message, like to end as much in vain ? To whom thus Zephon, answering scorn with scorn.
Trang 241 - I STOOD in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs ; A palace and a prison on each hand : I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand : A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land...
Trang 221 - By the sweet power of music : therefore, the poet Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods, Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage, But music for the time doth change his nature. The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils : The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus. Let no such man be trusted.
Trang 27 - How lov'd, how honour'd once, avails thee not, To whom related, or by whom begot ; A heap of dust alone remains of thee, 'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be ! Poets themselves must fall, like those they sung, Deaf the prais'd ear, and mute the tuneful tongue.
Trang 27 - Helen thy Bridgewater vie, And these be sung till Granville's Myra die : Alas ! how little from the grave we claim ! Thou but preserv'st a face, and I a name.

Thông tin thư mục