The Autobiography of Leigh Hunt

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Smith, Elder, 1870 - 412 pages
 

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Page 234 - I will be wise, And just, and free, and mild, if in me lies Such power, for I grow weary to behold The selfish and the strong still tyrannize Without reproach or check.
Page 57 - Ramothgilead to battle, or shall I forbear? And they said, Go up; for the LORD shall deliver it into the hand of the king.
Page 241 - For Heaven's sake let us sit upon the ground, And tell sad stories of the death of kings...
Page 366 - I know each lane, and every alley green, Dingle, or bushy dell, of this wild wood, And every bosky bourn from side to side, My daily walks and ancient neighbourhood...
Page 234 - I walked forth upon the glittering grass, And wept, I knew not why : until there rose From the near schoolroom voices that alas ! Were but one echo from a world of woes — The harsh and grating strife of tyrants and of foes.
Page 243 - I am sorry to say that your conduct is not extraordinary; and if my own seems to amaze you, I will tell you something which may amaze you a little more, and I hope will frighten you. It is such men as you who madden the spirits and the patience of the poor and wretched; and if ever a convulsion comes in this country, (which is very probable,) recollect what I tell you: you will have your house, that you refuse to put the miserable woman into, burnt over your head.
Page 95 - Then maids and youths shall linger here, And while its sounds at distance swell, Shall sadly seem in Pity's ear To hear the woodland pilgrim's knell. Remembrance oft shall haunt the shore When Thames in summer wreaths is drest, And oft suspend the dashing oar To bid his gentle spirit rest...
Page 234 - Thoughts of great deeds were mine, dear Friend, when first The clouds which wrap this world from youth did pass. I do remember well the hour which burst My spirit's sleep : a fresh May-dawn it was, When I walked forth upon the glittering grass, And wept, I knew not why: until there rose From the near school-room, voices, that, alas!
Page 26 - It was now the middle of May, and the morning was remarkably serene, when Mr. Allworthy walked forth on the terrace, where the dawn opened every minute that lovely prospect we have before described to his eye ; and now having sent forth streams of light, which ascended the blue firmament before him, as harbingers preceding his pomp...
Page 195 - Then let your style be brief, your meaning clear, Nor, like Lorenzo, tire the labouring ear With a wild waste of words ; sound without sense, And all the florid glare of impotence. Still, with your characters your language change, — From grave to gay, as nature dictates, range : Now droop in all the plaintiveness of woe, — (! !) Now in glad numbers light and airy flow ; Now shake the stage with guilt's alarming tone, ( ! !) And make the aching bosom all your own" Was there ever a fonder set of...

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