Lectures on the English comic writers: Delivered at the Surrey Institution .... (Google eBook)

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Taylor and Hessey, 1819 - English literature - 343 pages
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Page 41 - The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long, That it had its head bit off by its young.
Page 45 - ... sometimes it lurketh under an odd similitude ; sometimes it is lodged in a sly question, in a smart answer, in a quirkish reason, in a shrewd intimation, in cunningly diverting or cleverly retorting an objection ; sometimes it is couched in a bold scheme of speech, in a tart irony, in a lusty hyperbole, in a startling metaphor, in a plausible reconciling of contradictions, or in acute nonsense...
Page 86 - I'll change All that is metal, in my house, to gold : And early in the morning will I send To all the plumbers and the pewterers, And buy their tin and lead up ; and to Lothbury For all the copper. Sur. What, and turn that too ? Mam. Yes, and I'll purchase Devonshire and Cornwall, And make them perfect Indies ! You admire now ? Sur. No, faith. Mam. But when you see th...
Page 98 - tis my outward soul, Viceroy to that, which then to heaven being gone, Will leave this to control And keep these limbs, her provinces, from dissolution.
Page 24 - The sun had long since, in the lap Of Thetis, taken out his nap, And, like a lobster boil'd, the morn From black to red began to turn...
Page 139 - Come, then, the colours and the ground prepare; Dip in the rainbow, trick her off in air; Choose a firm cloud before it fall, and in it Catch, ere she change, the Cynthia of this minute.
Page 98 - Gave to thy growth, thee to this height to raise, And now dost laugh and triumph on this bough, Little think'st thou That it will freeze anon, and that I shall Tomorrow find thee fall'n, or not at all.
Page 46 - ... an affected simplicity, sometimes a presumptuous bluntness giveth it being : sometimes it riseth only from a lucky hitting upon what is strange : sometimes from a crafty wresting obvious matter to the purpose: often it consisteth in one knows not what, and springeth up one can hardly tell how. Its ways are unaccountable and inexplicable, being ansv/erable to the numberless rovings of fancy and windings of language.
Page 105 - Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale? Why so dull and mute, young sinner? Prithee, why so mute? Will, when speaking well can't win her, Saying nothing do 't?
Page 238 - Dreams, books, are each a world ; and books, we know, Are a substantial world, both pure and good : Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, Our pastime and our happiness will grow.

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