The Retrospective Review, Količina 14

Sprednja platnica
Charles and Henry Baldwyn, 1826
 

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Priljubljeni odlomki

Stran 316 - O God! methinks it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point...
Stran 297 - This is mentioned to vindicate Tragedy from the small esteem, or rather infamy, which in the account of many it undergoes at this day, with other common interludes ; happening through the poet's error of intermixing comic stuff with tragic sadness and gravity, or introducing trivial and vulgar persons: which by all judicious hath been counted absurd, and brought in without discretion, corruptly to gratify the people.
Stran 105 - Many of them also which used curious arts brought their books together, and burned them before all men: and they counted the price of them, and found it fifty thousand pieces of silver.
Stran 168 - Zebulun and Naphtali were a people that jeoparded their lives unto the death In the high places of the field.
Stran 297 - Tragedy, as it was anciently composed, hath been ever held the gravest, moralest, and most profitable of all other poems : therefore said by Aristotle to be of power by raising pity and fear, or terrour, to purge the mind of those and such like passions, that is, to temper and reduce them to just measure with a kind of delight, stirred up by reading or seeing those passions well imitated.
Stran 305 - Nothing can cover his high fame, but heaven ; No pyramids set off his memories, But the eternal substance of his greatness, To which I leave him.
Stran 337 - Such notes as warbled to the string, Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, And made Hell grant what love did seek. Or call up him that left half told The story of Cambuscan bold, Of Camball, and of Algarsife, And who had Canace to wife, That owned the virtuous ring and glass, And of the wondrous horse of brass, On which the Tartar king did ride...
Stran 326 - My spirit's feeble, and my pains are strong: This I may say, I only grieve to die, Because I lose my charming Emily. To die, when Heaven had put you in my power! Fate could not choose a more malicious hour. What greater curse could envious Fortune give, Than just to die when I began to live! Vain men! how vanishing a bliss we crave; Now warm in love, now withering in the grave! Never, O never more to see the sun! Still dark, in a damp vault, and still alone!
Stran 254 - To what purpose cometh there to me incense from Sheba, and the sweet cane from a far country ? your burnt offerings are not acceptable, nor your sacrifices sweet unto me.
Stran 295 - THE PRINTER TO THE READER Courteous Reader, There was no Argument at first intended to the Book, but for the satisfaction of many that have desired it, I have procured it, and withal a reason of that which stumbled many others, why the Poem Rimes not.

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