The Life of Thomas Chatterton: Including His Unpublished Poems and Correspondence

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Partridge & Oakey, 1851 - 213页
 

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第184页 - Midst others of less note, came one frail Form, A phantom among men; companionless As the last cloud of an expiring storm Whose thunder is its knell; he, as I guess, Had gazed on Nature's naked loveliness, Actaeon-like, and now he fled astray With feeble steps o'er the world's wilderness, And his own thoughts, along that rugged way, Pursued, like raging hounds, their father and their prey.
第157页 - O God, whose thunder shakes the sky, Whose eye this atom globe surveys ; To Thee, my only rock, I fly, Thy mercy in thy justice praise. The mystic mazes of thy will, The shadows of celestial...
第179页 - Chatterton smiled, and taking his companion by the arm, replied, " My dear friend, I feel the sting of a speedy dissolution. I have been at war with the grave for some time, and find it is not so easy to vanquish as I imagined : we can find an asylum from every creditor but that.
第64页 - I will not trouble you with more questions now, Sir, but flatter myself, from the urbanity and politeness you have already shewn me, that you will give me leave to consult you.
第63页 - Give me leave to ask you, where Rowley's poems are to be found. I should not be sorry to print them, or at least a specimen of them, if they have never been printed.
第176页 - I have an universal acquaintance : — my company is courted every where ; and, could I humble myself to go into a compter, could have had twenty places before now : — but I must be among the great ; state matters suit me better than commercial. The ladies are not out of my acquaintance. I have a deal of business now...
第108页 - Whilst * * * * at his passive organ, groans Through all his slow variety of tones. How unlike Allen ! Allen is divine ! His touch is sentimental, tender, fine ; No little affectations e'er disgrac'd His more refin'd, his sentimental taste : He keeps the passions with the sound in play, And the soul trembles with the trembling key.
第168页 - Porter's favoured humble servant, though but a young man, is a very old lover ; and in the eight-andfiftieth year of his age : but that, as Lappet says, is the flower of a man's days ; and when a lady can't get a young husband, she must put up with an old bed-fellow. I left Miss Singer, I am sorry to say it, in a very bad way ; that is, in a way to be married.
第78页 - My heart did not accuse me of insolence to him. I wrote an answer, expostulating with him on his injustice, and renewing good advice — but upon second thoughts, reflecting that so wrong-headed a young man, of whom I knew nothing, and whom I had never seen, might be absurd enough to print my letter, I flung it into the fire ; and...
第153页 - I must either live a slave, a servant, have no will of my own, no sentiments of my own which I may freely declare as such, or die. Perplexing alternative ! — But it distracts me to think of it. I will endeavour to learn humility, but it cannot be here. What it will cost me on the trial heaven knows. " I am, " Your much obliged, unhappy, humble Servant, "TC" In a letter written about the same time to Mr.

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