Essays of Elia

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Cassell, 1907 - 337 páginas
 

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Página 114 - a green thought in a green shade. Here at the fountain's sliding foot Or at some fruit-tree's mossy root, Casting the body's vest aside, My soul into the boughs does glide; There, like a bird, it site and sings, Then whets and claps its silver
Página 83 - Like one that on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And having once turn'd round, walks on And turns no more his head ; Because he knows a frightful
Página 113 - How would the dark line steal imperceptibly on, watched by the eye of childhood, eager to detect its movement, never catched, nice as an evanescent cloud, or the first arrests of sleep 1 Ah ! yet doth beauty like a dial hand Steal from his figure, and no pace perceived
Página 36 - of these the Muse is silent. Finding some of Edward's race Unhappy, pass their annals by. Come back into memory, like as thou wert in the dayspring of thy fancies, with hope like a fiery column before thee—the dark pillar not yet turned—Samuel Taylor Coleridge—Logician, Metaphysician, Bard
Página 264 - and of their doom the rumour flies, That poison foul of bubbling Pride doth lie So in my swelling breast, that only I Fawn on myself, and others do despise ; Yet Pride, I think, doth not my soul possess, Which looks too oft in his unflattering glass; But one worse fault—Ambition—I confess, That makes
Página 138 - blots—innocent blacknesses— I reverence these young Africans of our own growth— these almost clergy imps, who sport their cloth without assumption; and from their little pulpits (the tops of chimneys), in the nipping air of a December morning, preach a lesson of patience to mankind. When a child, what a mysterious pleasure it was to
Página 126 - But what meats ?— Him thought he by the brook of Cherith stood, And saw the ravens with their homy beaks Food to Elijah bringing even and morn ; Though ravenous, taught to abstain from what they brought. He saw the prophet also how he fled Into the desert, and how there he slept
Página 169 - 1 Clown. What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild fowl ? Mai. That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird. Clown. What thinkest thou of his opinion ? Mai. I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve of his opinion.
Página 155 - of a grunt. He must be roasted. I am not ignorant that our ancestors ate them seethed, or boiled—but what a sacrifice of the exterior tegument 1 There is no flavour comparable, I will contend, to that of the crisp, tawny, well-watched, not over-roasted, crackling, as it is well
Página 155 - in these days) could be assigned in favour of any culinary object, that pretext and excuse might be found in ROAST PIG. Of all the delicacies in the whole mundus edibilis, I will maintain it to be the most delicate—princeps obsoniorum. I speak not of your grown porkers—things between pig and pork—those hobbledehoys—but a young and tender suckling—under a moon

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