طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
Works, with a Sketch of His Life and Final Memorials
<span dir=ltr>Charles Lamb</span>
لا تتوفر معاينة - 2020
1st Footman 1st Lady 2d Footman 2d Lady beauty Belvil better boys Catharine character child chimney sweeper Christ's Hospital confess countenance creature curiosity dear death delight dizzard dreams eye of mind face fancy fear feel female Frampton gentle gentleman GEORGE WITHER Gin Lane give grace Hamlet hand hath heart Hertfordshire Hogarth honour hour humour images imagination John Tomkins kind knew Landlord less live look Lord maid manner March to Finchley Margaret master Melesinda mind mirth mistress moral nature never night once passion person play pleasure poet poor Quaker Rake's Progress remember Rosamund scene seems seen Selby sense Shakspeare sight smile sort soul speak spirit strange sweet Tamburlaine tell tender thee things thou thought tion true truth Waiter walk woman wonder workhouse young youth
الصفحة 217 - So every spirit, as it is most pure, And hath in it the more of heavenly light, So it the fairer body doth procure To habit in, and it more fairly dight, With cheerful grace and amiable sight. For, of the soul, the body form doth take, For soul is form, and doth the body make.
الصفحة 35 - I behold like a Spanish great galleon, and an English man-of-war; Master Coleridge, like the former, was built far higher in learning, solid, but slow in his performances. CVL, with the English man-of-war, 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.
الصفحة 173 - With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies! How silently, and with how wan a face! What, may it be that even in heavenly place That busy archer his sharp arrows tries? Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case, I read it in thy looks; thy languished grace, To me, that feel the like, thy state descries.
الصفحة 173 - I read it in thy looks ; thy languisht grace To me, that feel the like, thy state descries. Then, even of fellowship, O Moon, tell me, Is constant love deem'd there but want of wit ? Are beauties there as proud as here they be ? Do they above love to be loved, and yet Those lovers scorn, whom that love doth possess ? Do they call virtue there — ungratefulness ? The last line of this poem is a little obscured by transposition.
الصفحة 100 - twas beyond a mortal's share To wander solitary there : Two paradises 'twere in one, To live in paradise alone. How well the skilful gardener drew Of flowers and herbs this dial new; Where, from above, the milder sun Does through a fragrant zodiac run, And, as it works, the industrious bee Computes its time as well as we ! How could such sweet and wholesome hours Be reckoned but with herbs and flowers...
الصفحة 383 - twas not pride, It was a joy to that allied, She did inherit. Her parents held the Quaker rule, Which doth the human feeling cool, But she was train'd in Nature's school, Nature had blest her. A waking eye, a prying mind, A heart that stirs, is hard to bind, A hawk's keen sight ye cannot blind, Ye could not Hester. My sprightly neighbour, gone before To that unknown and silent shore, Shall we not meet, as heretofore, Some summer morning...
الصفحة 105 - ... and was nearly pulled down, and all its old ornaments stripped and carried away to the owner's other house, where they were set up, and looked as awkward as if some one were to carry away the old tombs they had seen lately at the Abbey, and stick them up in Lady C.'s tawdry gilt drawing-room. Here John smiled, as much as to say, " that would be foolish indeed.
الصفحة 34 - 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 ! — How have I seen the casual passer through the Cloisters stand still, entranced with admiration (while he weighed the disproportion between the speech and the garb of the young Mirandula) to hear thee unfold, in thy deep and sweet intonations, the mysteries of...
الصفحة 93 - June," and I could say with the poet, " But thou, that didst appear so fair To fond imagination, Dost rival in the light of day Her delicate creation !" Bridget's was more a waking bliss than mine, for she easily remembered her old acquaintance again — some altered features, of course, a little grudged at. At first, indeed, she was ready to disbelieve for joy ; but the scene soon reconfirmed itself in her affections — and she traversed every...