The Living Authors of England
D. Appleton & Company, 1849 - 316 páginas
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admirable American appeared asked beauty become believe better brought Browning called character comes common considered critic dead death Dickens doubt drama earth effect England English evidence expression eyes face fact fair fall feel force genius give half hand head hear heard heart hope hour human interest labor lady leave light lines living look Lord manner matter mean mind nature never night once pass passages passion play poem poet poetical poetry poor present produced readers remark rest round scene seems seen sense soul spirit stand style sure sweet tell thee things thou thought tion true truth turned verse voice volume whole writings written young
Página 132 - TIRED Nature's sweet restorer, balmy Sleep ! He, like the world, his ready visit pays Where Fortune smiles ; the wretched he forsakes ; Swift on his downy pinion flies from woe, And lights on lids unsullied with a tear.
Página 82 - DAY ! Faster and more fast, O'er night's brim, day boils at last; Boils, pure gold, o'er the cloud-cup's brim Where spurting and suppressed it lay ; For not a froth-flake touched the rim Of yonder gap in the solid gray Of the eastern cloud, an hour away ; But forth one wavelet, then another, curled, Till the whole sunrise, not to be suppressed, Rose, reddened, and its seething breast Flickered...
Página 76 - Then off there flung in smiling joy, And held himself erect By just his horse's mane, a boy; You hardly could suspect — *> (So tight he kept his lips compressed, Scarce any blood came through) You looked twice ere you saw his breast Was all but shot in two. "Well...
Página 53 - THERE is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass, Or night-dews on still waters between walls Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass; Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tir'd eyelids upon tir'd eyes; Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies. Here are cool mosses deep, And thro...
Página 53 - All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful Past. Let us alone. What pleasure can we have To war with evil ? Is there any peace...
Página 235 - There's a Divinity that shapes our ends, Rough hew them as we may.
Página 239 - Eternity, and some gleam of the latter peering through. 'Highest of all Symbols are those wherein the Artist or Poet has risen into Prophet, and all men can recognise a present God, and worship the same: I mean religious Symbols.
Página 92 - Howe'er it be, it seems to me, Tis only noble to be good. Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood.
Página 75 - You know, we French stormed Ratisbon : A mile or so away On a little mound, Napoleon Stood on our storming-day ; With neck out-thrust, you fancy how, Legs wide, arms locked behind, As if to balance the prone brow Oppressive with its mind. Just as perhaps he mused, " My plans That soar, to earth may fall, Let once my army-leader Lannes Waver at yonder wall...
Página 45 - Whatever crazy sorrow saith, No life that breathes with human breath Has ever truly longed for death. " 'Tis life, whereof our nerves are scant, Oh life, not death, for which we pant ; More life, and fuller, that I want.