Critical and Miscellaneous Writings of T. Noon TalfourdCarey and Hart, 1842 - 354 sider |
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Side 14
... touch of romance than Fielding , but not so profound and intuitive a knowledge of humanity's hidden treasures . There is nothing in his works comparable to Parson Adams ; but then , on the other hand , Fielding has not any thing of the ...
... touch of romance than Fielding , but not so profound and intuitive a knowledge of humanity's hidden treasures . There is nothing in his works comparable to Parson Adams ; but then , on the other hand , Fielding has not any thing of the ...
Side 18
... influences of the imagination which consecrate what- ever they touch , which detect the secret analogies of beauty , and bring kindred graces from all parts of nature to 18 TALFOURD'S MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS . MACKENZIE, New Monthly ...
... influences of the imagination which consecrate what- ever they touch , which detect the secret analogies of beauty , and bring kindred graces from all parts of nature to 18 TALFOURD'S MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS . MACKENZIE, New Monthly ...
Side 22
... touch of his hand " not the less delightful from carrying a sort of fear along with that delight : it was like a pulse in the soul ! " The last scenes of this novel are matchless in their kind . Never was so much of the terrific ...
... touch of his hand " not the less delightful from carrying a sort of fear along with that delight : it was like a pulse in the soul ! " The last scenes of this novel are matchless in their kind . Never was so much of the terrific ...
Side 44
... touch into air , and are found to be only masses of vapour and of cloud . He neither raises us to the skies , nor " brings his angels down , " but astonishes by a phantas- magoria of strange appearances , sometimes scarcely distin ...
... touch into air , and are found to be only masses of vapour and of cloud . He neither raises us to the skies , nor " brings his angels down , " but astonishes by a phantas- magoria of strange appearances , sometimes scarcely distin ...
Side 66
... touch of human gen- tleness , in the midst of sorrow — some “ glorious triumph of exceeding love , " which suffuses our " subdued eyes , " and mellows our hearts . Death itself often becomes the source of sublime consolations : seen ...
... touch of human gen- tleness , in the midst of sorrow — some “ glorious triumph of exceeding love , " which suffuses our " subdued eyes , " and mellows our hearts . Death itself often becomes the source of sublime consolations : seen ...
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Critical and Miscellaneous Writings of T. Noon Talfourd Thomas Noon Talfourd, Sir Ingen forhåndsvisning - 2016 |
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admiration affections amidst appears bard beauty breath cause character colouring Coriolanus court criticism death deep delicate delight divine dream earth Edinburgh Review eloquence emotions eternal excite exhibit exquisite faculties fancy fantastic feeling genius gentle give glorious glory grace grandeur happy harmony Hazlitt heart heaven honour hope human Iago images imagination immortal inspired intense Julius Cæsar justice King's Bench less Lisbon living look Lord Lord Byron lordship majesty marriage Middle Temple mighty mind moral nature ness never Nisi Prius noble noblest Old Bailey once Othello passion pleasure poems poet poetical poetry racters render rich romance Rylstone scarcely scene seems sense sentiment Shakspeare shed Sir Thomas Browne solemn sorrow soul species specta spirit strange sublime sweet sympathy Tagus taste Temple things thought tion touch tragedy truth vast virtue voice wild Wordsworth youth
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Side 121 - Hence, in a season of calm weather, Though inland far we be, Our souls have sight of that immortal sea, Which brought us hither, Can in a moment travel thither, And see the children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.
Side 118 - What then I was. The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms, were then to me An appetite; a feeling and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
Side 122 - The Clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober colouring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality ; Another race hath been, and other palms are won. Thanks to the human heart by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears ; To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
Side 121 - I love the Brooks which down their channels fret, Even more than when I tripped lightly as they; The innocent brightness of a new-born Day Is lovely yet; The Clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober colouring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality; Another race hath been, and other palms are won.
Side 120 - Not for these I raise The song of thanks and praise; But for those obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things, Fallings from us, vanishings; Blank misgivings of a Creature Moving about in worlds not realized, High instincts before which our mortal Nature Did tremble like a guilty Thing surprised...
Side 118 - For I have learned To look on nature, not as in the hour Of thoughtless youth ; but hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity, Not harsh nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue. And I have felt A presence that disturbs me with the joy Of elevated thoughts ; a sense sublime Of something far more deeply interfused, Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, And the round ocean and the living air, And the blue sky, and in the mind of man...
Side 182 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The power, the beauty, and the majesty, That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring, Or chasms and watery depths; all these have vanished; They live no longer in the faith of reason.
Side 79 - Still roll ; where all the aspects of misery Predominate; whose strong effects are such As he must bear, being powerless to redress; And that unless above himself he can Erect himself, how poor a thing is man...
Side 104 - The appearance, instantaneously disclosed, Was of a mighty city, boldly say A wilderness of building, sinking far And self-withdrawn into a boundless depth, Far sinking into splendour — without end! Fabric it seemed of diamond and of gold, With alabaster domes, and silver spires, And blazing terrace upon terrace, high Uplifted; here, serene pavilions bright...
Side 121 - But for those first affections, Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master light of all our seeing...