De Quincey's works, Bind 2

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J. Hogg, 1854

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Side 223 - My shaping spirit of Imagination. For not to think of what I needs must feel, But to be still and patient, all I can; And haply by abstruse research to steal From my own nature all the natural man — This was my sole resource, my only plan : Till that which suits a part infects the whole, And now is almost grown the habit of my soul.
Side 55 - Stood on my feet: about me round I saw Hill, dale, and shady woods, and sunny plains, And liquid lapse of murmuring streams; by these Creatures that lived and moved, and walked or flew; Birds on the branches warbling; ~a.ll things smiled; With fragrance and with joy my heart o'erflowed.
Side 306 - The Youth of green savannahs spake, And many an endless, endless lake, With all its fairy crowds Of islands, that together lie As quietly as spots of sky Among the evening clouds.
Side 298 - But how can He expect that others should Build for him, sow for him, and at his call Love him, who for himself will take no heed at all...
Side 237 - She was a phantom of delight When first she gleam'd upon my sight; A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful dawn; A dancing shape, an image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay. I saw her upon nearer view...
Side 142 - It would be directing the reader's attention too much to myself if I were to linger upon this, the greatest event in the unfolding of my own mind. Let me say, in one word, that, at a period when neither the one nor the other writer was valued by the public — both having a long warfare to accomplish of contumely and ridicule before they could rise into their present estimation — I found in these poems "the ray of a new morning," and an absolute revelation of untrodden worlds teeming with power...
Side 102 - The popular harangue, the tart reply, The logic, and the wisdom, and the wit, And the loud laugh — I long to know them all ; I burn to set th' imprison'd wranglers free, And give them voice and utt'rance once again.
Side 308 - The Blessing of my later years Was with me when a boy : She gave me eyes, she gave me ears ; And humble cares, and delicate fears ; A heart, the fountain of sweet tears ; And love, and thought, and joy.
Side 250 - That kill the bloom before its time; And blanch, without the owner's crime, The most resplendent hair.
Side 240 - ... the exceeding sympathy, always ready and always profound, by which she made all that one could tell her, all that one could describe, all that one could quote from a foreign author, reverberate, as it were, a plusieurs reprises, to one's own feelings, by the manifest impression it made upon hers.

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