The British Essayists: With Prefaces Biographical, Historical and Critical, Zväzky 25–26T. and J. Allman, 1823 |
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Výsledky 1 - 5 z 80.
Strana 3
... produced it : that the golden age should return because Pollio had a son , appears so wild a fiction , that I am ready to suspect the poet of having written for some other purpose , what he took this opportunity of producing to the ...
... produced it : that the golden age should return because Pollio had a son , appears so wild a fiction , that I am ready to suspect the poet of having written for some other purpose , what he took this opportunity of producing to the ...
Strana 4
... produces ; his wishes are wild , his resentment is tender , and his purposes are inconstant . In the genuine language of despair , he soothes himself awhile with the pity that shall be paid him after his death : -Tamen cantabitis ...
... produces ; his wishes are wild , his resentment is tender , and his purposes are inconstant . In the genuine language of despair , he soothes himself awhile with the pity that shall be paid him after his death : -Tamen cantabitis ...
Strana 7
... melting strain , Nor turtles from th ' aerial elm to plain . - WARTON . may be observed , that these two poems were produced by events that really happened ; and may , therefore , be of use to prove that we ean C 2 N ° 92 . 7 ADVENTURER .
... melting strain , Nor turtles from th ' aerial elm to plain . - WARTON . may be observed , that these two poems were produced by events that really happened ; and may , therefore , be of use to prove that we ean C 2 N ° 92 . 7 ADVENTURER .
Strana 11
... follies more than it can produce ; and swaggerers who rank themselves with gentlemen , merely because they have no business to pursue . Whatever spirit , careless of his charge , Forsakes his N ° 94 . 15 ADVENTURER .
... follies more than it can produce ; and swaggerers who rank themselves with gentlemen , merely because they have no business to pursue . Whatever spirit , careless of his charge , Forsakes his N ° 94 . 15 ADVENTURER .
Strana 15
... squander in fa- shionable follies more than it can produce ; and swaggerers who rank themselves with gentlemen , merely because they have no business to pursue . The gamester of this class will appear to be equally N ° 94 . 15 ADVENTURER .
... squander in fa- shionable follies more than it can produce ; and swaggerers who rank themselves with gentlemen , merely because they have no business to pursue . The gamester of this class will appear to be equally N ° 94 . 15 ADVENTURER .
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Časté výrazy a frázy
acquainted ADVENTURER Almerine amusement ancient appearance bagnio beauty character CHARLES HANBURY WILLIAMS Clodio considered Corsica daugh daughter disappointed discovered distress dreadful dress elegant endeavoured entertain equal Euripides evil excel eyes fashion father favour fear Felicia felicity FITZ-ADAM Flavilla folly fortune frequently Fretters gentleman give Glastonbury thorn happiness heart Hilario honour hope humble servant humour imagination kind king knew labour lady less lived look Lord Lord CHESTERFIELD Madam mankind manner marriage Menander ment Mercator mind misery nature ness never night obliged observed paper passion perhaps person pity pleasure Posidippus pounds present Quintilian racter readers reason RICHARD OWEN CAMBRIDGE ridicule ROBERT DODSLEY Shelimah shew SOAME JENYNS Soliman sometimes soon suffered sure taste thee thing thou thought tion told truth virtue wife WILLIAM PULTENEY Wilson wish wretch writer
Populárne pasáže
Strana 26 - You taught me language; and my profit on't Is, I know how to curse : The red plague rid you, For learning me your language ! Pro.
Strana 8 - Where the bee sucks, there suck I; In a cowslip's bell I lie: There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat's back I do fly, After summer, merrily : Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
Strana 138 - Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your looped and windowed raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? O, I have ta'en Too little care of this ! Take physic, pomp ; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.
Strana 139 - Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind ; says suum, mun ha no nonny. Dolphin my boy, my boy ; sessa ! let him trot by. [Storm still. LEAK. Why, thou wert better in thy grave than to answer with thy uncovered body this extremity of the skies. Is man no more than this? Consider him well. Thou owest the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume.
Strana 179 - Pray, do not mock me : I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourscore and upward ; and, to deal plainly, I fear, I am not in my perfect mind. Methinks, I should know you, and know this man ; Yet I am doubtful : for I am mainly ignorant What place this is : and all the skill I have Remembers not these garments ; nor I know not Where I did lodge last night : Do not laugh at me ; For, as I am a man, I think this lady To be my child Cordelia.
Strana 179 - Mine enemy's dog, Though he had bit me, should have stood that night Against my fire ; and wast thou fain, poor father, To hovel thee with swine, and rogues forlorn, In short and musty straw? Alack, alack!
Strana 53 - In the midst of the street of it and on either side of the river, was there the tree of life, which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month ; and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.
Strana 180 - Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, And thou no breath at all ? Thou 'It come no more, Never, never, never, never, never ! Pray you, undo this button : thank you, sir.
Strana 8 - Tis he, who gives my breast a thousand pains, Can make me feel each passion that he feigns; Enrage, compose, with more than magic art ; With pity, and with terror, tear my heart ; And snatch me, o'er the earth, or through the air, To Thebes, to Athens, when he will, and where.
Strana 179 - tis fittest. Cor. How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty? Lear. You do me wrong, to take me out o' the grave. — Thou art a soul in bliss ; but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears Do scald like molten lead.