The Collected Writings of Thomas De Quincey, Volumen11

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A. & C. Black, 1897
 

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Página 319 - The cock is crowing, The stream is flowing, The small birds twitter, The lake doth glitter, The green field sleeps in the sun ; The oldest and youngest Are at work with the strongest ; The cattle are grazing, Their heads never raising ; There are forty feeding like one...
Página 76 - twould a saint provoke," (Were the last words that poor Narcissa spoke ;} " No, let a charming chintz and Brussels lace Wrap my cold limbs, and shade my lifeless face : One would not, sure, be frightful when one's dead — And — Betty — give this cheek a little red.
Página 264 - A made a finer end, and went away, an it had been any christom child; 'a parted even just between twelve and one, even at the turning o' the tide: for after I saw him fumble with the sheets, and play with flowers, and smile upon his fingers...
Página 303 - The pleasure-house is dust : behind, before, This is no common waste, no common gloom ; But Nature, in due course of time, once more Shall here put on her beauty and her bloom. "She leaves these objects to a slow decay, That what we are, and have been, may be known ; But at the coming of the milder day These monuments shall all be overgrown.
Página 80 - For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight, His can't be wrong, whose life is in the right: For forms of government let fools contest, Whate'er is best administered is best.
Página 39 - Who, too deep for his hearers, still went on refining, And thought of convincing, while they thought of dining...
Página 367 - Now has descended a serener hour, And with inconstant fortune, friends return ; Though suffering leaves the knowledge and the power Which says : Let scorn be not repaid with scorn. And from thy side two gentle babes are born To fill our home with smiles, and thus are we Most fortunate beneath life's beaming morn : And these delights, and thou, have been to me The parents of the Song I consecrate to thee.
Página 55 - Heraclitus saith well in one of his enigmas: "Dry light is ever the best." And certain it is, that the light that a man receiveth by counsel from another is drier and purer than that which cometh from his own understanding and judgment, which is ever infused and drenched in his affections and customs.
Página 465 - tis too horrible ! The weariest and most loathed worldly life, ^ That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a paradise To what we fear of death.
Página 132 - In the worst inn's worst room, with mat half hung The floors of plaster, and the walls of dung, On once a flock-bed, but repair'd with straw, With tape-tied curtains, never meant to draw, The George and Garter dangling from that bed Where tawdry yellow strove with dirty red, Great Villiers lies...

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