The Living Authors of EnglandD. Appleton & Company, 1849 - 316 páginas |
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Página 36
... asked him , with much deference , to publish a volume of Poems , their joint efforts . With that coy reluctance on his part , so natural to a publisher , he agreed , and the manuscript was handed to his printer . As the work advanced ...
... asked him , with much deference , to publish a volume of Poems , their joint efforts . With that coy reluctance on his part , so natural to a publisher , he agreed , and the manuscript was handed to his printer . As the work advanced ...
Página 81
... asked What safe my heart holds - though no word Could I repeat now - tho ' I tasked My powers for ever to a third Dear even as you are : pass the rest , Until I sunk upon his breast . Over my head his arm he flung Against the world ...
... asked What safe my heart holds - though no word Could I repeat now - tho ' I tasked My powers for ever to a third Dear even as you are : pass the rest , Until I sunk upon his breast . Over my head his arm he flung Against the world ...
Página 99
... asked his medical attendant to tell him candidly if there was any prospect of his recovery . On being informed that nature was too exhausted to allow of such a hope , he said , with his usual serenity , " Very well , be it so ; then ...
... asked his medical attendant to tell him candidly if there was any prospect of his recovery . On being informed that nature was too exhausted to allow of such a hope , he said , with his usual serenity , " Very well , be it so ; then ...
Página 147
... asked him the other morning how it was with him , he answered with a characteristic playful pathos— ' The tide is rising , and I shall soon be in port . ' It is said of him that he has no regrets for his life , except for the unborn ...
... asked him the other morning how it was with him , he answered with a characteristic playful pathos— ' The tide is rising , and I shall soon be in port . ' It is said of him that he has no regrets for his life , except for the unborn ...
Página 150
... asked for . My conscience has been restless about it ever since , ( whenever I thought that way , ) but neither head nor heart were at liberty sufficiently to do anything . What I have sent at last , 150 . BRITISH WRITERS .
... asked for . My conscience has been restless about it ever since , ( whenever I thought that way , ) but neither head nor heart were at liberty sufficiently to do anything . What I have sent at last , 150 . BRITISH WRITERS .
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Pasajes populares
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.