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admirable Amoret appeared artist beauty Belphoebe Britomart Capulet Carlyle century character Count Paris critic death delight desire divine doctrine dream earth Ecelin England English evil eyes Faery Queen faith father feeling Ferrara French Revolution genius George Eliot Ghibellin Godwin Goethe Goito grace Guelf hand happy heart heroic honour hope human ideal ideas imagination intellect Juliet kind Lady literature living lover lyrical Lyrical Ballads Mantua Marlowe Milton mind moral nature never night noble Palma passion perfect persons philosophy play poem poet poet's poetical poetry political Portia possess Puritan recognise reform Romeo Romeo and Juliet Roselo Salinguerra seems sense Shakspere Shakspere's Shelley Shelley's side song Sordello sorrow soul Spenser spirit stanza strength sweet Tamburlaine temper things thou thought tion true truth Verona verse virtue whole wife woman wonder words Wordsworth writes young youth
Page 419 - My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite.
Page 356 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then, have I reason to be fond of grief ? Fare you well: had you such a loss as I, I could give better comfort than you do.
Page 453 - From their immortal flowers of poesy, Wherein, as in a mirror, we perceive The highest reaches of a human wit; If these had made one poem's period, And all...
Page 115 - I have said that poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquillity : the emotion is contemplated till, by a species of re-action, the tranquillity gradually disappears, and an emotion, kindred to that which was before the subject of contemplation, is gradually produced, and does itself actually exist in the mind.
Page 202 - Nor thro' the questions men may try, The petty cobwebs we have spun : If e'er when faith had fall'n asleep, I heard a voice, "Believe no more," And heard an ever-breaking shore That tumbled in the godless deep; A warmth within the breast would melt The freezing reason's colder part, And like a man in wrath the heart Stood up and answer'd, "I have felt.
Page 259 - Indeed there can be no more useful help for discovering what poetry belongs to the class of the truly excellent, and can therefore do us most good, than to have always in one's mind lines and expressions of the great masters, and to apply them as a touchstone to other poetry. Of course we are not to require this other poetry to resemble them ; it may be very dissimilar.
Page 141 - No Nightingale did ever chaunt More welcome notes to weary bands Of travellers in some shady haunt, Among Arabian sands: A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird, Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides.
Page 156 - IF thou indeed derive thy light from Heaven, Then, to the measure of that heaven-born light, Shine, Poet ! in thy place, and be content : — The stars pre-eminent in magnitude, And they that from the zenith dart their beams, (Visible though they be to half the earth, Though half a sphere be conscious of their brightness) Are yet of no diviner origin, No purer essence, than the one that burns, Like an untended watch-fire on the ridge...