Jeffrey's Literary CriticismH. Milford, 1928 - 216 pàgines |
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Frases i termes més freqüents
admiration affectation ancient appear beauties better Canto character Charles Wilkes colouring Crabbe criticism D. G. HOGARTH delight delineations diction doubt dramatists E. V. LUCAS Edinburgh Edinburgh Review Edited English essays excite familiar fancy faults feelings force French genius GEORGE CRABBE give grace greater habits heart human humour images imagination imitation impression indulgence interest Introduction Jeffrey Jeffrey's judgement Lady least less literary literature lofty Lord Byron Lyrical Ballads Macvey Napier Madame de Staël manner merit mind misanthropy moral nation nature never observation Old Mortality opinion ordinary original passages passion pathos peculiar persons poem Poem.-No poet poetical poetry popular produced readers Review romance Rylstone scarcely scenes Scott seems sentiments Shakespeare simplicity spirit story style sweet sympathy talents taste things thought tion truth variety venture versification volume vulgar Waverley Novels White Doe whole WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Wordsworth writings
Passatges populars
Pàgina 12 - 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 12 - 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 10 - 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 11 - 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 1 - ... 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 121 - What but the most wretched and provoking perversity of taste and judgment, could induce any one to place his chosen advocate of wisdom and virtue in so absurd and fantastic a condition? Did Mr. Wordsworth really imagine, that his favourite doctrines were likely to gain any thing in point of effect or authority by being put into the mouth of a person accustomed to higgle about tape, or brass sleeve-buttons?
Pàgina 112 - From his sixth year, the Boy of whom I speak, In summer, tended cattle on the hills...
Pàgina 48 - 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 11 - It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale ; look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east. Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops; I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
Pàgina 116 - And may it not be hoped, that, placed by Age In like removal tranquil though severe, We are not so removed for utter loss ; But for some favour, suited to our need ? What more than that the severing should confer Fresh power to commune with the invisible world, And hear the mighty stream of tendency...