Currents and Eddies in the English Romantic Generation

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Yale University Press, 1918 - 342 páginas

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Página 106 - Paradise, and groves Elysian, Fortunate Fields — like those of old Sought in the Atlantic Main — why should they be A history only of departed things, Or a mere fiction of what never was ? For the discerning intellect of Man, When wedded to this goodly universe In love and holy passion, shall find these A simple produce of the common day.
Página 78 - Down from that strength had spurred their horse, Their southern rapine to renew, Far in the distant Cheviots blue, And, home returning, filled the hall With revel, wassel-rout, and brawl.
Página 106 - For I must tread on shadowy ground, must sink Deep, — and, aloft ascending, breathe in worlds To which the heaven of heavens is but a veil.
Página 187 - Do you remember the brown suit which you made to hang upon you till all your friends cried shame upon you, it grew so threadbare — and all because of that folio Beaumont and Fletcher...
Página 31 - Come, bright Improvement ! on the car of Time, And rule the spacious world from clime to clime; Thy handmaid arts shall every wild explore, Trace every wave, and culture every shore. "On Erie's banks, where tigers steal along, / And the dread Indian chants a dismal song, Where human fiends on midnight errands walk, And bathe in brains the murderous...
Página 174 - O for ten years, that I may overwhelm Myself in poesy; so I may do the deed That my own soul has to itself decreed.
Página 226 - God ! that thou wert in thy nakedness Less lovely or more powerful, and couldst claim Thy right, and awe the robbers back, who press To shed thy blood, and drink the tears of thy distress...
Página 215 - ... strange design Against the creed and morals of the land, And trace it in this poem every line: I don't pretend that I quite understand My own meaning when I would be very fine; But the fact is that I have nothing plann'd, Unless it were to be a moment merry, A novel word in my vocabulary.
Página 98 - But now afflictions bow me down to earth: Nor care I that they rob me of my mirth ; But oh! each visitation Suspends what nature gave me at my birth, My shaping spirit of Imagination.
Página 280 - Tis strange, — but true ; for truth is always strange; Stranger than fiction : if it could be told, How much would novels gain by the exchange ! How differently the world would men behold ! How oft would vice and virtue places change ! The new world would be nothing to the old, If some Columbus of the moral seas Would show mankind their souls

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