Works, with a Sketch of His Life and Final Memorials, Τόμος 11855 |
Άλλες εκδόσεις - Προβολή όλων
Works, with a Sketch of His Life and Final Memorials, Τόμος 1 Charles Lamb Δεν υπάρχει διαθέσιμη προεπισκόπηση - 2012 |
Works, with a Sketch of His Life and Final Memorials Charles Lamb Δεν υπάρχει διαθέσιμη προεπισκόπηση - 2020 |
Συχνά εμφανιζόμενοι όροι και φράσεις
admiration Barron Field beautiful BERNARD BARTON blank verse bless brother called Charles CHARLES LAMB Christ's Hospital Coleridge Coleridge's David Hartley dead Dear death delight Dyer Elia Enfield Essays Essays of Elia exquisite eyes fancy fear feel following letter friendship genius gentleman George Dyer give gone hath Hazlitt head hear heard heart hope Inner Temple Islington Joan of Arc kind lady Lamb's lines live Lloyd London look Mary mean mind Miss Lamb morning Musings nature never night pain perhaps play pleasant pleasure poem poet poetry poor Pray present pretty prose Quaker recollection remember scarce seems sent Shakspeare sister Skiddaw sonnet soul Southey spirit Stowey sweet talk tell thank thee things thou thought tion verses volume walk week wish words Wordsworth write written wrote young
Δημοφιλή αποσπάσματα
Σελίδα 479 - Glittering in golden coats, like images ; As full of spirit as the month of May, And gorgeous as the sun at Midsummer ; Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.
Σελίδα 159 - Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome!
Σελίδα 135 - Specimens of English Dramatic Poets who lived about the time of Shakspeare...
Σελίδα 74 - ... mire, Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire Help waste a sullen day, what may be won From the hard season gaining ? Time will run On smoother, till Favonius reinspire The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh attire The lily and rose, that neither sowed nor spun. What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice, Of Attic taste, with wine, whence we may rise To hear the lute well touched, or artful voice Warble immortal notes and Tuscan air?
Σελίδα 315 - Believe thou, O my soul, Life is a vision shadowy of Truth ; And vice, and anguish, and the wormy grave, Shapes of a dream ! The veiling clouds retire, And lo ! the Throne of the redeeming God Forth flashing unimaginable day Wraps in one blaze earth, heaven, and deepest hell.
Σελίδα 32 - Truly the light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun...
Σελίδα 178 - Throw yourself on the world without any rational plan of support, beyond what the chance employ of booksellers would afford you ! ! ! " Throw yourself rather, my dear Sir, from the steep Tarpeian rock slap-dash headlong upon iron spikes. If you had but five consolatory minutes between the desk and the bed, make much of them, and live a century in them, rather than turn slave to the Booksellers.
Σελίδα 97 - Your sun and moon and skies and hills and lakes affect me no more, or scarcely come to me in more venerable characters, than as a gilded room with tapestry and tapers, where I might live with handsome visible objects. I consider the clouds above me but as a roof, beautifully painted but unable to satisfy the mind, and at last, like the pictures of the apartment of a connoisseur, unable to afford him any longer a pleasure. So fading upon me, from disuse, have been the beauties of Nature, as they have...
Σελίδα 96 - The lighted shops of the Strand and Fleet Street ; the innumerable trades, tradesmen, and customers, coaches, waggons, playhouses, all the bustle and wickedness round about Covent Garden ; the watchmen, drunken scenes, rattles — life awake if you awake at all hours of the night ; the impossibility of being dull in Fleet Street ; the crowds, the very dirt and mud, the sun shining upon houses and pavements, the...
Σελίδα 96 - ... steams of soups from kitchens ; the pantomimes — London itself a pantomime and a masquerade — all these things work themselves into my mind, and feed me without a power of satiating me. The wonder of these sights impels me into night-walks about her crowded streets, and I often shed tears in the motley Strand, from fulness of joy at so much life.