English Lands, Letters and Kings ..., Volum 4C. Scribner's Sons, 1897 |
Des de l'interior del llibre
Resultats 1 - 5 de 21.
Pàgina v
... hills and waters , which is known as the Lake District of England ; -where we found Wordsworth , stalking over the fells— and where we now find the maker of those heavy poems of Thalaba and Madoc , and of the charming.
... hills and waters , which is known as the Lake District of England ; -where we found Wordsworth , stalking over the fells— and where we now find the maker of those heavy poems of Thalaba and Madoc , and of the charming.
Pàgina vi
Donald Grant Mitchell. poems of Thalaba and Madoc , and of the charming little biography of Nelson . There , too , we find that strange creature , De Quincey , full of a tumult of thoughts and language - out of which comes ever and anon ...
Donald Grant Mitchell. poems of Thalaba and Madoc , and of the charming little biography of Nelson . There , too , we find that strange creature , De Quincey , full of a tumult of thoughts and language - out of which comes ever and anon ...
Pàgina 1
... charming Lake District of England . There , we found Coleridge , before he was yet besotted by his opium - hunger ; there , too , we had Church - in- terview with the stately , silver - haired poet of Rydal Mount — making ready for his ...
... charming Lake District of England . There , we found Coleridge , before he was yet besotted by his opium - hunger ; there , too , we had Church - in- terview with the stately , silver - haired poet of Rydal Mount — making ready for his ...
Pàgina 2
... charming glimpses of Lake Saltonstall from the Shore - line high - road between New York and Boston ; let them imagine these multiplied by a score , at frequently recur- ring intervals of walk or drive ; not bald duplica- tions ; for ...
... charming glimpses of Lake Saltonstall from the Shore - line high - road between New York and Boston ; let them imagine these multiplied by a score , at frequently recur- ring intervals of walk or drive ; not bald duplica- tions ; for ...
Pàgina 3
... charming country road which stretch thence - twirling hither and yon , and up and down — in a northwesterly direction to the town of Keswick and the Derwent valley , remain now in very much the same condition as when I.
... charming country road which stretch thence - twirling hither and yon , and up and down — in a northwesterly direction to the town of Keswick and the Derwent valley , remain now in very much the same condition as when I.
Continguts
138 | |
147 | |
157 | |
163 | |
173 | |
187 | |
193 | |
201 | |
65 | |
77 | |
83 | |
92 | |
103 | |
112 | |
118 | |
125 | |
132 | |
212 | |
223 | |
229 | |
237 | |
249 | |
255 | |
265 | |
277 | |
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
English Lands, Letters and Kings: The later Georges to Victoria Donald Grant Mitchell Visualització completa - 1906 |
English Lands, Letters and Kings: The later Georges to Victoria Donald Grant Mitchell Visualització completa - 1907 |
Frases i termes més freqüents
Abbotsford admired beautiful brilliant British Brougham Byron Campbell chapter charming Childe Harold Coleridge comes count Croker daughter death delight Diary Disraeli early Edinboro Edinburgh Review encounter England English Lands father FRANCIS JEFFREY friends gentleman George George IV glitter Godwin grace Hazlitt heart Hunt's J. G. Lockhart Jeffrey John Wilson John Wilson Croker kindly King Lady Blessington Lake Landor later Leigh Hunt letters literary living Lockhart London Lord Lord Brougham Lord Byron Macaulay Mackintosh marriage married memory Moore mother mountain never Newstead passion poem poet poetic political pretty Prince Quarterly Queen Quincey Review Robert Southey royal says Shelley Smailholme Tower Southey speech story Sydney Smith talk tell thee things thou tion touch trees Tweed verse voice Walter Scott wife William William Hazlitt witty wonderful Wordsworth writes wrote young
Passatges populars
Pàgina 63 - Therefore am I still A lover of the meadows and the woods And mountains, and of all that we behold From this green earth...
Pàgina 230 - Its loveliness increases ; it will never Pass into nothingness ; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing A flowery band to bind us to the earth...
Pàgina 63 - Once again I see These hedge-rows, hardly hedge-rows, little lines Of sportive wood run wild: these pastoral farms, Green to the very door; and wreaths of smoke Sent up, in silence, from among the trees...
Pàgina 196 - 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...
Pàgina 9 - They say it was a shocking sight after the field was won; for many thousand bodies here lay rotting in the sun; but things like that, you know, must be after a famous victory. Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won, and our good Prince Eugene. "Why, 'twas a very wicked thing!" said little Wilhelmine. "Nay... nay... my little girl," quoth he, "it was a famous victory.
Pàgina 232 - Yet wherefore? Quench within their burning bed Thy fiery tears, and let thy loud heart keep Like his, a mute and uncomplaining sleep; For he is gone, where all things wise and fair Descend; — oh, dream not that the amorous Deep Will yet restore him to the vital air; Death feeds on his mute voice, and laughs at our despair.
Pàgina 101 - Parting-ton's spirit was up ; but I need not tell you that the contest was unequal. The Atlantic Ocean beat Mrs. Partington. She was excellent at a slop, or a puddle, but she should not have meddled with a tempest. Gentlemen, be at your ease — be quiet and steady. You will beat Mrs. Partington.
Pàgina 268 - Alone stood brave Horatius, But constant still in mind ; Thrice thirty thousand foes before, And the broad flood behind. " Down with him ! " cried false Sextus, With a smile on his pale face. "Now yield thee," cried Lars Porsena,
Pàgina 173 - O well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play ! O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay ! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But O for the touch of a vanish'd hand, And the sound of a voice that is still ! Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, O Sea ! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me.
Pàgina 212 - I do not believe it beguiling, Because it reminds me of thine; And when winds are at war with the ocean, As the breasts I believed in with me, If their billows excite an emotion It is that they bear me from thee.