Poetry and Poets: A Collection of the Choicest Anecdotes Relative to the Poets of Every Age and Nation. With Specimens of Their Works and Sketches of Their Biography, Volume 2 |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 15
Page 74
... feelings on the subject of his exile from his home and country , are well depicted in the following beautiful little poem . " c ODE TO AN INDIAN GOLD COIN . Written in Chéricál , Malabar . Slave of the dark and dirty mine ! What vanity ...
... feelings on the subject of his exile from his home and country , are well depicted in the following beautiful little poem . " c ODE TO AN INDIAN GOLD COIN . Written in Chéricál , Malabar . Slave of the dark and dirty mine ! What vanity ...
Page 77
... feeling of the heart , That bind us closer to our native soil , And make it death from those we love to part . " Tis songs like thine that make each rugged wild , And barren heath , to Scotia's sons more dear Than scenes o'er which fond ...
... feeling of the heart , That bind us closer to our native soil , And make it death from those we love to part . " Tis songs like thine that make each rugged wild , And barren heath , to Scotia's sons more dear Than scenes o'er which fond ...
Page 80
... feeling of the author , who , 66 " To his most esteemed and beloved Selfe , Dat dedicatque . " Who but some churlish cynic - some growler at the world some man without a friend to commemorate , could thus proclaim his " selfe " idolatry ...
... feeling of the author , who , 66 " To his most esteemed and beloved Selfe , Dat dedicatque . " Who but some churlish cynic - some growler at the world some man without a friend to commemorate , could thus proclaim his " selfe " idolatry ...
Page 108
... feeling were united , in the bosom of Vondel , with a capacity for the more lofty flights of the Muse . " Infant fairest - beauty rarest- Who repairest from above ; Whose sweet smiling , woe - beguiling , Lights us with a heavenly love ...
... feeling were united , in the bosom of Vondel , with a capacity for the more lofty flights of the Muse . " Infant fairest - beauty rarest- Who repairest from above ; Whose sweet smiling , woe - beguiling , Lights us with a heavenly love ...
Page 139
... nerve , and true poetic feeling . SULIOTE SONG OF VICTORY . " ' Twas morn , and the mountain peaks Were visor'd with purple light , When the deep glen rung , And the war shout POETRY AND POETS . 139 John Augustine O'Shea 119 121 122.
... nerve , and true poetic feeling . SULIOTE SONG OF VICTORY . " ' Twas morn , and the mountain peaks Were visor'd with purple light , When the deep glen rung , And the war shout POETRY AND POETS . 139 John Augustine O'Shea 119 121 122.
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
admiration afterwards anagram appeared bard beautiful better Bishop Hoadly called celebrated character charms College composition Court Court of Love crown death dedication Doctor doth Dryden English epigram eyes fame fancy Garrick genius Goldsmith hand hath heart honour Irish Jenyns JOHN JEGON King labours lady language Laureate laurel Leyden lived Lord LORD BYRON Magdalen College Majesty Mary Ambree morning Muse native never o'er Palindrome Parini person piece Pindar play poem poet poetical poetry poor Pope praise published Queen replied ROBERT HERRICK ROBERT TANNAHILL Saint satire says sent shew Siege of Damascus sing Sir John Soame Jenyns songs soon soul spirit sublime sweet Swift talents Tannahill taste thee thing Thomas the Rhymer Thomson thou thought tion told took Tragedy translation verses Voltaire walk Waller Whiskey write written wrote yon burn side
Popular passages
Page 153 - The higher he's a-getting, The sooner will his race be run, And nearer he's to setting. That age is best which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse and worst Times still succeed the former. Then be not coy, but use your time, And while ye may, go marry; For, having lost but...
Page 255 - 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...
Page 153 - But being spent, the worse, and worst Times still succeed the former. Then be not coy, but use your time, And while ye may, go marry; For having lost but once your prime, You may for ever tarry.
Page 258 - There went up a smoke out of his nostrils, And fire out of his mouth devoured; Coals were kindled by it. He bowed the heavens also, and came down; And darkness was under his feet.
Page 243 - Nor yet quite deserted though lonely extended, For faithful in death, his mute favourite attended,' The much-loved remains of her master defended, And chased the hill-fox and the raven away. How long didst thou think that his silence was slumber ? When the wind waved his garment, how oft didst thou start?
Page 13 - Our Tragedies and Comedies (not without cause cried out against), observing rules neither of honest civility nor of skilful Poetry, excepting Gorboduc (again, I say, of those that I have seen), which notwithstanding, as it is full of stately speeches and well-sounding phrases, climbing to the height of Seneca's style, and as full of notable morality, which it doth most delightfully teach, and so obtain the very end of Poesy...
Page 244 - With scutcheons of silver the coffin is shielded, And pages stand mute by the canopied pall : Through the courts at deep midnight the torches are gleaming ; In the proudly arched chapel the banners are beaming ; Far adown the long aisle sacred music is streaming, Lamenting a chief of the people should fall.
Page 196 - Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage; If I have freedom in my love And in my soul am free, Angels alone, that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.
Page 229 - To answer your question as to Mr. Hughes ; what he wanted in genius, he made up as an honest man ; but he was of the class you think him.
Page 77 - The tent-ropes flapping lone I hear For twilight converse, arm in arm ; The jackal's shriek bursts on mine ear When mirth and music wont to charm. By Cherical's dark wandering streams, Where cane-tufts shadow all the wild, Sweet visions haunt my waking dreams...