Recollections of the Table-talk of Samuel Rogers: To which is Added Porsoniana

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D. Appleton, 1856 - 346 páginas
 

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Página 240 - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude ; 'tis but to hold Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd.
Página 89 - Happy the man, and happy he alone, He, who can call to-day his own : He who, secure within, can say, To-morrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.
Página 281 - And if I laugh at any mortal thing, 'Tis that I may not weep...
Página 221 - By the sweet power of music : therefore, the poet Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods, Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage, But music for the time doth change his nature. The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils : The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus. Let no such man be trusted.
Página 238 - Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild; Sweet are thy groves, and verdant are thy fields, Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smiled, And still his...
Página 150 - Know ye not then, said Satan, fill'd with scorn, Know ye not me? ye knew me once no mate For you, there sitting where ye durst not soar...
Página 26 - ... lucre, and the dread of death. In vain to deserts thy retreat is made ; The Muse attends thee to thy silent shade : 'Tis hers, the brave man's latest steps to trace, Rejudge his acts, and dignify disgrace. 30 When interest calls off all her sneaking train, And all the obliged desert, and all the vain ; She waits, or to the scaffold or the cell, When the last lingering friend has bid farewell...
Página 241 - I STOOD in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs ; A palace and a prison on each hand : I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand : A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land...
Página 29 - Heaven made him poor (with reverence speaking), He never was a poet of God's making ; The midwife laid her hand on his thick skull, With this prophetic blessing — Be thou dull...
Página 27 - Oft she rejects, but never once offends. Bright as the sun, her eyes the gazers strike, And, like the sun, they shine on all alike. Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride, Might hide her faults, if belles had faults to hide: If to her share some female errors fall, Look on her face, and you'll forget them all.

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