The Collected Works of William Hazlitt: Contributions to the Edinburgh review

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J. M. Dent & Company, 1904 - English essays
 

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Page 366 - High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all To envious and calumniating time. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin...
Page 256 - Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are ; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear...
Page 186 - Till body up to spirit work, in bounds Proportion'd to each kind. So from the root Springs lighter the green stalk; from thence the leaves More airy; last the bright consummate flower Spirits odorous breathes...
Page 389 - So free from danger, free from fear, They crossed the court : right glad they were. And Christabel devoutly cried, To the lady by her side, Praise we the Virgin all divine Who hath rescued thee from thy distress ! Alas, alas! said Geraldine, I cannot speak for weariness.
Page 391 - A LITTLE child, a limber elf, Singing, dancing to itself, A fairy thing with red round cheeks, That always finds, and never seeks, Makes such a vision to the sight As fills a father's eyes with light ; And pleasures flow in so thick and fast Upon his heart, that he at last Must needs express his love's excess With words of unmeant bitterness. Perhaps 'tis pretty to force together Thoughts so all unlike each other ; To mutter and mock a broken charm, To dally with wrong that does no Liirm.
Page 249 - Lido through the harbour piles, The likeness of a clump of peaked isles. And then, as if the earth and sea had been Dissolved into one lake of fire, were seen Those mountains towering, as from waves of flame, Around the vaporous sun ; from which there came The inmost purple spirit of light, and made Their very peaks transparent. "Ere it fade," Said my companion, "I will show you soon A better station.
Page 255 - The breath of the moist earth is light, Around its unexpanded buds ; Like many a voice of one delight, The winds, the birds, the ocean floods, The City's voice itself is soft like Solitude's.
Page 389 - Lay fast asleep, in moonshine cold. The mastiff old did not awake, Yet she an angry moan did make! And what can ail the mastiff bitch? Never till now she uttered yell 150 Beneath the eye of Christabel.
Page 388 - Tis the middle of night by the castle clock, And the owls have awakened the crowing cock ; Tu— whit ! Tu— whoo ! And hark, again ! the crowing cock, How drowsily it crew.
Page 306 - ... in those modes of repose or agitation, of tenderness or sublime emotion, which manifest its thirst for a more powerful and joyful existence. To a man of a literal and prosaic character, the mind may seem lawless in these workings; but it observes higher laws than it transgresses, the laws of the immortal intellect; it is trying and developing its best faculties; and in the objects which it describes, or in the emotions which it awakens, anticipates those states of progressive power, splendour,...

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