The Life and Letters of Washington Irving, Volume 26

Front Cover
G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1869
 

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Page 155 - THERE are few writers for whom the reader feels such personal kindness as for Oliver G-oldsmith, for few have so eminently possessed the magic gift of identifying themselves with their writings.
Page 160 - Tu se' solo colui, da cui io tolsi Lo bello stile che m
Page 364 - The moon had climbed the highest hill That rises o'er the source of Dee...
Page 350 - Look, where he comes ! Not poppy, nor mandragora, Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep Which thou ow'dst yesterday.
Page 358 - And shoot a dullness to my trembling heart. Give me thy hand, and let me hear thy voice; Nay, quickly speak to me, and let me hear Thy voice — my own affrights me with its echoes.
Page 156 - While the productions of writers of loftier pretension and more sounding names are suffered to moulder on our shelves, those of Goldsmith are cherished and laid in our bosoms. We do not quote them with ostentation, but they mingle with our minds, sweeten our tempers, and harmonize our thoughts ; they put us in good humor with ourselves and with the world, and in so doing they make us happier and better men.
Page 365 - The whole of the fifth volume was already printed, and waiting only the Preface, which was completed that verv morning, before the receipt of the letter.
Page 312 - Upon this, Mrs. Procter, cutting in, delivered — (it is her own story) — a neat oration on the life and writings of Carlyle, and enlightened him in her happiest and airiest manner ; all of which he heard, staring in the dreariest silence, and then said (indignantly as before),
Page 330 - So they went on the boards without previous rehearsal. In the scene in which lago instils his suspicions, Cooke grasped Kemble's left hand with his own, and then fixed his right, like a claw, on his shoulder. In this position, drawing himself up to him with his short arm, he breathed his poisonous whispers. Kemble coiled and twisted his hand, writhing to get away, his right hand clasping his brow, and darting his eye back on lago.
Page 325 - The best laid schemes of mice and men Gang aft a-gley, And lea'e us nought but grief and pain, For promised joy.

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