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admiration affectation ancient appear beauties better Canto character Charles Wilkes colouring Crabbe Craigcrook criticism delight delineations diction doubt dramatists Edinburgh Review English English poetry excite expression familiar fancy faults feelings force French genius GEORGE CRABBE give grace greater habits heart human humour images imagination imitation impression indulgence interest invention Jeffrey Jeffrey's JOHN KEATS judgement Lady least less literature lofty look Lord Byron Lyrical Ballads Macvey Napier Madame de Staël manner merit mind misanthropy moral nature never noble observation Old Mortality opinion ordinary original passages passion pathos peculiar persons poem Poem.-No poet poetical poetry popular produced readers Rylstone scarcely scenes Scott seems sentiments Shakespeare simplicity spirit story style sweet sympathy talent taste tenderness things thought tion traits truth variety venture versification volume vulgar Waverley Novels White Doe whole WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Wordsworth writings
Pàgina 16 - Be not afeard ; the isle is full of noises, Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears, and sometimes voices That, if I then had waked after long sleep, Will make me sleep again : and then, in dreaming, The clouds methought would open and show riches Ready to drop upon me, that, when I waked, I cried to dream again.
Pàgina 16 - This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve By his loved mansionry that the heaven's breath Smells wooingly here : no jutty, frieze, Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle : Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed The air is delicate.
Pàgina 15 - DUKE'S PALACE. [Enter DUKE, CURIO, LORDS; MUSICIANS attending.] DUKE. If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken and so die.— That strain again;— it had a dying fall; O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour.— Enough; no more; 'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
Pàgina 14 - Although his sails are purple and perfumed, and his prow of beaten gold, they waft him on his voyage, not less, but more rapidly and directly, than if they had been composed of baser materials. All his excellences, like those of Nature herself, are thrown out together ; and, instead of interfering with, support and recommend each other. His flowers are not tied up in garlands, nor his fruits crushed into baskets — but spring living from the soil, in all the dew and freshness of youth ; while the...
Pàgina 5 - ... we will venture to assert, that there is in any one of the prose folios of Jeremy Taylor more fine fancy and original imagery — more brilliant conceptions and glowing expressions —more new figures, and new applications of old figures — more, in short, of the body and the soul of poetry, than in all the odes and the epics that have since been produced in Europe.
Pàgina 46 - Blew mimic hootings to the silent owls, That they might answer him. — And they would shout Across the watery vale, and shout again, Responsive to his call, — with quivering peals, And long halloos, and screams, and echoes loud Redoubled and redoubled; concourse wild Of jocund din!
Pàgina 116 - From his sixth year, the Boy of whom I speak, In summer, tended cattle on the hills...
Pàgina 52 - Behold the child by nature's kindly law, Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw: Some livelier plaything gives his youth delight, A little louder, but as empty quite : Scarfs, garters, gold, amuse his riper stage, And beads and prayer-books are the toys of age : Pleased with this bauble still, as that before, Till tired he sleeps, and life's poor play is o'er.
Pàgina 46 - Wordsworth has written more than three hundred on the subject: but, instead of new images of tenderness, or delicate representation of intelligible feelings, he has contrived to tell us nothing whatever of the unfortunate fair one, but that her name is Martha Ray ; and that she goes up to the top of a hill, in a red cloak, and cries
Pàgina 10 - It is, in truth, rather an encomium on Shakespeare than a commentary or critique on him — and is written, more to show extraordinary love than extraordinary knowledge of his productions. Nevertheless, it is a very pleasing book — and, we do not hesitate to say, a book of very considerable originality and genius.