Christ's Hospital: Recollections of Lamb, Coleridge, and Leigh Hunt

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Reginald Brimley Johnson
G. Allen, 1896 - 274 стор.

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Сторінка 76 - Lute, harp, and lyre, muse, muses, and inspirations, Pegasus, Parnassus, and Hippocrene, were all an abomination to him. In fancy I can almost hear him now exclaiming, " Harp ? Harp ? Lyre ? Pen and ink, boy, you mean ! Muse, boy, muse ? Your nurse's daughter, you mean ! Pierian spring ? Oh aye ! the cloister-pump, I suppose ! " Nay, certain introductions, similes, and examples, were placed by name on a list of interdiction.
Сторінка 62 - English man-ofwar, lesser in bulk, but lighter in sailing, could turn with all tides, tack about and take advantage of all winds, by the quickness of his wit and invention.
Сторінка 70 - Abstruser musings: save that at my side My cradled infant" slumbers peacefully. 'Tis calm indeed! so calm, that it disturbs And vexes meditation with its strange And extreme silentness.
Сторінка 86 - ... so tender, and yet so manly, so natural and real, and yet so dignified and harmonious, as the sonnets, &c.
Сторінка 73 - Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee, Whether the summer clothe the general earth With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch Of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch Smokes in the sun-thaw; whether the eave-drops fall, Heard only in the trances of the blast, Or if the secret ministry of frost Shall hang them up in silent icicles, Quietly shining to the quiet Moon.
Сторінка 62 - Jonson, which two I behold like a Spanish great galleon, and an English man-of-war ; Master Jonson (like the former) was built far higher in learning ; solid, but slow in his performances.
Сторінка 154 - Ramothgilead to battle, or shall I forbear? And they said, Go up; for the LORD shall deliver it into the hand of the king.
Сторінка 50 - Wouldst thou like, reader, to see what became of him in the next degree ? The culprit who had been a third time an offender, and whose expulsion was at this time deemed irreversible, was brought forth, as at some solemn auto da fi, arrayed in uncouth and most appalling attire — all trace of his late
Сторінка 70 - FROST AT MIDNIGHT The Frost performs its secret ministry, Unhelped by any wind. The owlet's cry Came loud— and hark, again! loud as before. The inmates of my cottage, all at rest, Have left me to that solitude, which suits 6 Abstruser musings: save that at my side My cradled infant slumbers peacefully.
Сторінка 85 - Others apart sat on a hill retired, In thoughts more elevate, and reasoned high Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate, Fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute, And found no end, in wandering mazes lost...

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