Lectures on the English Poets: Delivered at the Surrey Institution |
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Page 302
... Lord Byron ( judging from the tone of his writings ) might be thought to have suffered too much to be a truly great poet . If Mr. Moore lays himself too open to all the various impulses of things , the outward shews of earth and sky ...
... Lord Byron ( judging from the tone of his writings ) might be thought to have suffered too much to be a truly great poet . If Mr. Moore lays himself too open to all the various impulses of things , the outward shews of earth and sky ...
Page 303
... Lord Byron's poetry is as morbid as Mr. Moore's is careless and dissipated . He has more depth of passion , more force and impetuosity , but the pas- sion is always of the same unaccountable character , at once violent and sullen ...
... Lord Byron's poetry is as morbid as Mr. Moore's is careless and dissipated . He has more depth of passion , more force and impetuosity , but the pas- sion is always of the same unaccountable character , at once violent and sullen ...
Page 304
... Lord Byron's writings . Yet he has beauty with his strength , tenderness sometimes joined with the phrenzy of despair . A flash of golden light some- times follows from a stroke of his pencil , like a falling meteor . The flowers that ...
... Lord Byron's writings . Yet he has beauty with his strength , tenderness sometimes joined with the phrenzy of despair . A flash of golden light some- times follows from a stroke of his pencil , like a falling meteor . The flowers that ...
Page 305
... Lord- ship's Muse , to play what stop she pleases on . Why should Lord Byron now laud him to the skies in the hour of his success , and then peevishly wreak his disappointment on the God of his idolatry ? The man he writes of does not ...
... Lord- ship's Muse , to play what stop she pleases on . Why should Lord Byron now laud him to the skies in the hour of his success , and then peevishly wreak his disappointment on the God of his idolatry ? The man he writes of does not ...
Page 307
... Lord Byron in intense passion , to Moore in delightful fancy , to Mr. Wordsworth in profound sentiment : but he has more picturesque power than any of them ; that is , he places the objects themselves , about which they might feel and ...
... Lord Byron in intense passion , to Moore in delightful fancy , to Mr. Wordsworth in profound sentiment : but he has more picturesque power than any of them ; that is , he places the objects themselves , about which they might feel and ...
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admirable affectation allegory appear Ballads beauty Beggar's Opera blank verse Boccaccio character Chaucer common Cutty Sark death delight describes doth equal excellence face Faery Queen fame fancy feeling finest flowers genius gives Gonne grace Gulliver's Travels happy hates hath heart heaven Herbert Croft hire Homer human idea images imagination interest kind Knight's Tale labour language less light lines living look Lord Lord Byron Lyrical Ballads manners Milton mind moral Muse nature never o'er objects painted passion pathos persons pleasure poem poet poetical poetry Pope praise prose racter reader rhyme satire scene sense sentiment Shakspeare Shanter shew song soul sound Spenser spirit spring style sweet ther thing thou thought tion Titian tree truth verse Whan wings wolde words Wordsworth writer wyllowe-tree youth
Popular passages
Page 145 - Tis with our judgments as our watches, none Go just alike, yet each believes his own.
Page 321 - The heavens themselves, the planets, and this centre, Observe degree, priority, and place, Insisture, course, proportion, season, form, Office, and custom, in all line of order...
Page 71 - To th' instruments divine respondence meet ; The silver sounding instruments did meet With the base murmure of the waters fall ; The waters fall with difference discreet, Now soft, now loud, unto the wind did call ; The gentle warbling wind low answered to all.
Page 113 - ... an inward prompting which now grew daily upon me, that by labour and intense study, (which I take to be my portion in this life,) joined with the strong propensity of nature, I might perhaps leave something so written to aftertimes, as they should not willingly let it die.
Page 271 - Kate soon will be a woefu' woman! Now, do thy speedy utmost, Meg, And win the keystane of the brig; There, at them thou thy tail may toss, A running stream they dare na cross! But ere the keystane she could make, The fient a tail she had to shake; For Nannie, far before the rest, Hard upon noble Maggie prest, And flew at Tarn wi' furious ettle; But little wist she Maggie's mettle!
Page 21 - Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream : The genius, and the mortal instruments, Are then in council; and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection.
Page 273 - But hark ! a rap comes gently to the door ; Jenny, wha kens the meaning o' the same, Tells how a neebor lad cam' o'er the moor, To do some errands, and convoy her hame. The wily mother sees the conscious flame Sparkle in Jenny's e'e, and flush her cheek ; With heart-struck anxious care, inquires his name, While Jenny hafflins is afraid to speak : Weel pleased the mother hears it's nae wild, worthless rake. Wi...
Page 117 - And, missing thee, I walk unseen On the dry smooth-shaven green To behold the wandering moon, Riding near her highest noon, Like one that had been led astray Through the heaven's wide pathless way, And oft, as if her head she bowed, Stooping through a fleecy cloud.
Page 243 - I thought of Chatterton, the marvellous Boy, The sleepless Soul that perished in his pride; Of Him who walked in glory and in joy Following his plough, along the mountain-side : By our own spirits are we deified : We poets in our youth begin in gladness; But thereof come in the end despondency and madness.
Page 199 - Oh, how canst thou renounce the boundless store Of charms which Nature to her votary yields ! The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields ; All that the genial ray of morning gilds, And all that echoes to the song of even, All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, And all the dread magnificence of Heaven, Oh, how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven ! X.