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Page 134 - Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spread But as the marigold at the sun's eye; And in themselves their pride lies buried, For at a frown they in their glory die. The painful warrior famoused for fight, After a thousand victories once foil'd, Is from the book of honour razed quite, And all the rest forgot for which he toil'd.
Page 305 - But, swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread: Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw Daily devours apace, and nothing said: But that two-handed engine at the door Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.
Page 3 - The mind loves to hover on that which is endless, and for ever the same. People wonder at a steam-boat, the invention of man, managed by man, that makes its liquid path like an iron railway through the sea — I wonder at the sea itself, that vast Leviathan, rolled round the earth, smiling in its sleep, waked into fury, fathomless, boundless, a...
Page 246 - Popery is said to be a make-believe religion : man is a make-believe animal — he is never so truly himself as when he is acting a part ; he is ever at war with himself — his theory with his practice — what he would be (and therefore pretends to be) with what he is; and Popery is an admirable receipt to reconcile his higher and his lower nature in a beautiful equivoque or...
Page 136 - Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower ; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind, In the primal sympathy Which having been must ever be, In the soothing thoughts that spring...
Page 385 - Days, weeks, months, and even years might have passed on much in the same manner, with 'but the season's difference.' We breakfasted at the same hour, and the tea-kettle was always boiling (an excellent thing in housewifery) — a lounge in the orchard for an hour or two, and twice a week we could see the steam-boat creeping like a spider over the surface of the lake ; a volume of the Scotch novels (to be had in every library on the Continent, in English, French, German, or Italian, as the reader...
Page 349 - Pillared with whitest marble, whence Palace on lofty palace sprung; And over all rich gardens hung, Where, amongst silver waterfalls, Cedars and spice-trees and green bowers, And sweet winds playing with all the flowers Of Persia and of...
Page 200 - ... up : but they are a noble treat to those who feel themselves raised in their own thoughts and in the scale of being by the immensity of other things, and who can aggrandise and piece out their personal insignificance by the grandeur and eternal forms of nature ! It gives one a vast idea of Buonaparte to think of him in these situations. He alone (the Rob Roy of the scene) seemed a match for the elements, and able to master ' this fortress, built by nature for herself.
Page 131 - Paris is a vast pile of tall and dirty alleys, of slaughter-houses and barbers' shops — an immense ( suburb huddled together within the walls so close, that you cannot see the loftiness of the buildings for the narrowness of the streets, and where all that is lit to live in, and best worth looking at, is turned out upon the quays, the boulevards, and their immediate vicinity.