Critical and Miscellaneous Writings of T. Noon Talfourd ... |
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Page 8
... spirit of the author's The present age has produced a singular faith leads him to exult especially in the re- number of authors of delightful prose fiction , pentance of the wicked . No human writer on whom we intend to give a series of ...
... spirit of the author's The present age has produced a singular faith leads him to exult especially in the re- number of authors of delightful prose fiction , pentance of the wicked . No human writer on whom we intend to give a series of ...
Page 9
... spirit is far too mercurial and airy to suffer artificial disguises . Its magic is not like that him tenderly to linger over those images of by which Arabian enchanters raised up glit- sweet humanity which he discloses . His cle- tering ...
... spirit is far too mercurial and airy to suffer artificial disguises . Its magic is not like that him tenderly to linger over those images of by which Arabian enchanters raised up glit- sweet humanity which he discloses . His cle- tering ...
Page 11
... spirit of gladness . There is little of a medi- tative or retrospective cast in his works . Whatever age he chooses for his story , lives before us : we become contemporaries of all his persons , and sharers in all their fortunes . Of ...
... spirit of gladness . There is little of a medi- tative or retrospective cast in his works . Whatever age he chooses for his story , lives before us : we become contemporaries of all his persons , and sharers in all their fortunes . Of ...
Page 12
... spirit , and the individuality of his characters . We know not , indeed , where to begin or to end with the vast crowd of their genial and noble shapes which come thronging on our memory . His ludicrous characters are dear to us ...
... spirit , and the individuality of his characters . We know not , indeed , where to begin or to end with the vast crowd of their genial and noble shapes which come thronging on our memory . His ludicrous characters are dear to us ...
Page 13
... spirit ? What a stu- the deep masses of shade , and the silent caves , pendous scene is that of the young fisher's among which they were nurtured , as the most funeral - the wretched father writhing in the rapid and perturbed stream ...
... spirit ? What a stu- the deep masses of shade , and the silent caves , pendous scene is that of the young fisher's among which they were nurtured , as the most funeral - the wretched father writhing in the rapid and perturbed stream ...
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Common terms and phrases
admiration affections amidst appear awaken bard beauty Ben Jonson breathe cast character cism colouring Coriolanus court Covenanters criticism death deep delicate delight divine earth eloquence eternal excite exhibit exquisite faculties fame fancy fantasy fearful feel genial genius gentle give glory grace grandeur harmony heart heaven honour hope human Iago images imagination imbodied immortal inspired Julius Cæsar justice labour Lady Mary Shepherd less Lisbon living look Lord Lord Byron Lord Eldon Lord Stowell lordship majesty ment mighty mind moral nature ness never Nisi Prius noble noblest objects once Othello passion poem poet poetical poetical justice poetry Queen Mab racter regard rendered rich romance scarcely scene seems sense sentiment Shakspeare solemn sorrow soul species spirit strange sublime sweet sympathy Tagus taste things thought tion touch tragedy truth virtue wild Wordsworth youth
Popular passages
Page 54 - For nature then (The coarser pleasures of my boyish days, And their glad animal movements all gone by) To me was all in all. — I cannot paint 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...
Page 56 - 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. 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.
Page 56 - The stars of midnight shall be dear To her; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.
Page 155 - Is this the region, this the soil, the clime," Said then the lost Archangel, " this the seat That we must change for Heaven? — this mournful gloom For that celestial light ? Be...
Page 56 - 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 Out of human suffering ; In the faith that looks through death, In years that bring the philosophic mind.
Page 46 - 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...
Page 153 - Evil into the mind of God or man May come and go, so unapproved, and leave No spot or blame behind...
Page 154 - He scarce had ceased, when the superior fiend Was moving toward the shore: his ponderous shield, Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round, Behind him cast; the broad circumference Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views, At evening, from the top of Fesole, Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands, Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe.
Page 56 - THREE years she grew in sun and shower; Then Nature said, "A lovelier flower On earth was never sown ; This Child I to myself will take; She shall be mine, and I will make A Lady of my own. "Myself will to my darling be Both law and impulse : and with me The Girl, in rock and plain, In earth and heaven, in glade and bower, Shall feel an overseeing power To kindle or restrain.
Page 12 - 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, or any interest Unborrowed from the eye.