Our Album of Authors,: A Cyclopedia of Popular Literary People,Elliott & Beezley, 1886 - 416 strani |
Vsebina
| 11 | |
| 24 | |
| 38 | |
| 46 | |
| 52 | |
| 54 | |
| 67 | |
| 84 | |
| 169 | |
| 175 | |
| 178 | |
| 182 | |
| 190 | |
| 239 | |
| 283 | |
| 294 | |
| 97 | |
| 100 | |
| 107 | |
| 112 | |
| 127 | |
| 137 | |
| 143 | |
| 156 | |
| 162 | |
| 310 | |
| 324 | |
| 340 | |
| 355 | |
| 369 | |
| 385 | |
| 401 | |
| 414 | |
Druge izdaje - Prikaži vse
Pogosti izrazi in povedi
afterward ALFRED TENNYSON American appeared appointed Baby Bell Barbara Fritchie beautiful became blank verse born Boston Byron Cambridge Charles Charles Lamb commenced critics Dante death died Dryden Edinburgh Edinburgh Review edition England English entered entitled essays Europe excellent fame father Franklin friends gave genius Goethe honor humor Italy John labor lady language lectures Leigh Hunt letters literary literature lived London Lord Lord Byron Lowell Macaulay Magazine married Massachusetts Milton mother never novel numerous poems poet poet's poetic poetry political popular prose published received reputation residence returned Review ROBERT BURNS romance satire Scotland Scott settled Shakespeare Shelley sketches society songs soon Southey story style success thought tion took translated traveled verse Victor Hugo visited volumes Washington Irving Westminster Abbey wife writings written wrote York young youth
Priljubljeni odlomki
Stran 338 - I BRING fresh showers for the thirsting flowers From the seas and the streams. I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noon-day dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun.
Stran 149 - After laying down my pen, I took several turns in a berceau, or covered walk of acacias, which commands a prospect of the country, the lake, and the mountains. The air was temperate, the sky was serene, the silver orb of the moon was reflected from the waters, and all nature was silent. I will not dissemble the first emotions of joy on the recovery of my freedom, and, perhaps, the establishment of my fame.
Stran 274 - THREE Poets, in three distant ages born, Greece, Italy, and England did adorn. The first in loftiness of thought surpassed; The next in majesty •, In both the last. The force of Nature could no further go ; To make a third, she joined the former two.
Stran 148 - It was on the day, or rather night, of the 27th of June 1787, between the hours of eleven and twelve, that I wrote the last lines of the last page, in a summer-house in my garden. After laying down my pen, I took several turns in a berceau, or covered walk of acacias, which commands a prospect of the country, the lake, and the mountains.
Stran 147 - It was at Rome, on the 15th of October 1764, as I sat musing amidst the ruins of the Capitol, while the barefooted friars were singing vespers in the temple of Jupiter,* that the idea of writing the decline and fall of the city first started to my mind.
Stran 338 - The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
Stran 331 - Only, if your Honour seem but pleased, I account myself highly praised; and vow to take advantage of all idle hours, till I have honoured you with some graver labour.
Stran 323 - Sir Walter breathed his last, in the presence of all his children. It was a beautiful day — so warm that every window was wide open— and so perfectly still, that the sound of all others most delicious to his ear, the gentle ripple of the Tweed over its pebbles, was distinctly audible as we knelt around the bed, and his eldest son kissed and closed his eyes.
Stran 340 - Around me I behold, Where'er these casual eyes are cast, The mighty minds of old: My never-failing friends are they, With whom I converse day by day. With them I take delight in weal And seek relief in woe; And while I understand and feel How much to them I owe, My cheeks have often been bedew'd With tears of thoughtful gratitude.
Stran 273 - ... full power of the English language. They abound with passages compared with which the finest declamations of Burke sink into insignificance. They are a perfect field of cloth of gold. The style is stiff with gorgeous embroidery. Not even in the earlier books of the Paradise Lost...