Letters for the press |
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第 1 到 5 筆結果,共 100 筆
第 iii 頁
Francis Roscommon (pseud.) LETTERS FOR THE PRESS : ON THE FEELINGS , PASSIONS , MANNERS , AND PURSUITS OF MEN . BY THE LATE FRANCIS ROSCOMMON , Esq . Hominem pagina nostra sapit . LONDON : PUBLISHED BY EFFINGHAM WILSON , ROYAL EXCHANGE ...
Francis Roscommon (pseud.) LETTERS FOR THE PRESS : ON THE FEELINGS , PASSIONS , MANNERS , AND PURSUITS OF MEN . BY THE LATE FRANCIS ROSCOMMON , Esq . Hominem pagina nostra sapit . LONDON : PUBLISHED BY EFFINGHAM WILSON , ROYAL EXCHANGE ...
第 xii 頁
... Feelings of the Sexes towards each other - Conversation at a Dinner - Party on Matrimony - The Bachelor's Lament , a Poem 58-68 LETTER VII . Recollections of Holydays at School - Rustic Parties of Plea- sure - Account of an Excursion to ...
... Feelings of the Sexes towards each other - Conversation at a Dinner - Party on Matrimony - The Bachelor's Lament , a Poem 58-68 LETTER VII . Recollections of Holydays at School - Rustic Parties of Plea- sure - Account of an Excursion to ...
第 xiv 頁
... Description of a singular Retrospective Feeling -Attempt to account for it - Notice of a peculiarly vivid Impression sometimes experienced in the Depth of Night 187-209 LETTER XX . Propensity of Mankind to Imitation in the xiv CONTENTS .
... Description of a singular Retrospective Feeling -Attempt to account for it - Notice of a peculiarly vivid Impression sometimes experienced in the Depth of Night 187-209 LETTER XX . Propensity of Mankind to Imitation in the xiv CONTENTS .
第 2 頁
... feelings , and left me little of that inclination to rhyme which once developed itself in odes , elegies , and sonnets . Besides , in the present day , we have poetry in excess : there are innumerable writers of pretty and even elegant ...
... feelings , and left me little of that inclination to rhyme which once developed itself in odes , elegies , and sonnets . Besides , in the present day , we have poetry in excess : there are innumerable writers of pretty and even elegant ...
第 6 頁
... own purposes . In writing a book , the object to be attained is rather too distant for a man of indolent habits , or one acting under no strong feeling , no very sanguine hopes of success : it is a great object 6 LETTERS FOR THE PRESS .
... own purposes . In writing a book , the object to be attained is rather too distant for a man of indolent habits , or one acting under no strong feeling , no very sanguine hopes of success : it is a great object 6 LETTERS FOR THE PRESS .
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admiration already amidst amusement Anastasius appear ardour attention beauty bloom calamity chaffinch character charms Childe Harold circumstances DEAR FRIEND delightful dity dreams effect emotions enjoy enjoyment enter evanescent evils excited exer expression eyes F. R. LETTER faculty fancy Farewell feeling felt female formal methods fresh gaze Gisborne Göthe habits happiness heart hope human ideas illusions imagination impression indolent influence instance intel intellectual intercourse interesting Ireland Yard Ivanhoe Jane Taylor kind lady lect literary live look Lord Byron mankind ment mental metaphor mind nature neighbours ness never object occasion passage passed passion peculiar perhaps pleasure poet poetry present pursuits qualities racter rapture recollect regard regularly transmit remarks rence rhyme scarcely scene seems sentiments sion smile society sometimes soon sort spirit sure taste thing thought tion town truth uncon verse words writer youth
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第 33 頁 - In every government, though terrors reign, Though tyrant kings or tyrant laws restrain, How small, of all that human hearts endure, That part which laws or kings can cause or cure! Still to ourselves in every place consigned, Our own felicity we make or find. With secret course, which no loud storms annoy, Glides the smooth current of domestic joy: The lifted axe, the agonizing wheel, Luke's iron crown, 1 and Damien's bed of steel.
第 163 頁 - Tis to create, and in creating live A being more intense, that we endow With form our fancy, gaining as we give The life we image, even as I do now.
第 163 頁 - He, who grown aged in this world of woe, In deeds, not years, piercing the depths of life, So that no wonder waits him...
第 172 頁 - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet.
第 171 頁 - There was a sound of revelry by night. And Belgium's capital had gathered then Her beauty and her chivalry ; and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men : A thousand hearts beat happily ; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again ; And all went merry as a marriage-bell, But hush ! hark ! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell.
第 172 頁 - No sleep till morn when youth and pleasure meet, To chase the glowing hours with flying feet, — But, hark! — that heavy sound breaks in once more, As if the clouds its echo would repeat; And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before! Arm!
第 63 頁 - In oblique shadow on the walls. And since those trappings first were new How many a cloudless day, To rob the velvet of its hue, Has come and passed away ! How many a setting sun hath made That curious lattice-work of shade ! Crumbled beneath the hillock green The cunning hand must be, That...
第 172 頁 - Within a window'd niche of that high hall Sate Brunswick's fated chieftain ; he did hear That sound, the first amidst the festival, And caught its tone with Death's prophetic ear ; And when they smiled because he...
第 168 頁 - Alarm'd she trembles at the moving shade ; And feels alive through all her tender form, The whisper'd murmurs of the gathering storm ; Shuts her sweet eyelids to approaching night, , And hails with freshen'd. charms the rising light.
第 164 頁 - Sky, mountains, river, winds, lake, lightnings ! ye, With night, and clouds, and thunder, and a soul To make these felt and feeling, well may be Things that have made me watchful ; the far roll Of your departing voices is the knoll Of what in me is sleepless, — if I rest. But where of ye, O tempests ! is the goal ? Are ye like those within the human breast ? Or do ye find, at length, like eagles, some high nest...