Literary Reminiscences: From the Autobiography of an English Opium-eater, 第 2 卷Ticknor, Reed, and Fields, 1854 |
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Allan Allan Cunningham Ambleside amongst believe Brathay called casuistry character chiefly Church circumstances Clappersgate Coleridge Coleridge's connected cottage daughter death dinner duel duty Easedale effect English expression fact feelings Francis Grasmere habits happened happiness heard heart Helvellyn honor hour human interest Junius Keswick knew known lake lake district Lake Poets Langdale less libel literary lived London looked Lord Byron malice Meantime ment miles mind Miss Smith Miss Wordsworth mode moral morning mountain nature never night notice object party Patterdale peculiar Penrith perhaps person Piercefield political Quaker reader reason regard religious respect river Greta road Sarah Green Scotland seemed sense Siddons Sir Philip Sir Philip Francis situation snow society solitude sometimes sound Southey Southey's spirit strangers supposed things thought tion vale walked Westmoreland whilst whole wife Windermere woman word
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第 65 頁 - There sometimes doth a leaping fish Send through the tarn a lonely cheer ; The crags repeat the raven's croak, In symphony austere ; Thither the rainbow comes ; the cloud ; And mists that spread the flying shroud ; And sunbeams ; and the sounding blast, That, if it could, would hurry past ; But that enormous barrier binds it fast.
第 171 頁 - After a close scrutiny, and a careful comparison with the original, it strikes me as conveying more of the true character and meaning of the Hebrew, with fewer departures from the idiom of the English, than any other translation whatever that we possess.
第 75 頁 - ... here Within this churchyard bound. And from all agony of mind It keeps them safe, and far From fear and grief, and from all need Of sun or guiding star.
第 22 頁 - Wordsworth took down the volume; unfortunately it was uncut; fortunately, and by a special Providence as to him, it seemed, tea was proceeding at the time. Dry toast required butter; butter required knives; and knives then lay on the table; but sad it was for the virgin purity of Mr Burke's as yet unsunned pages, that every knife bore upon its blade testimonies of the service it had rendered. Did that stop Wordsworth? Did that cause him to call for another knife? Not at all; he 'Look'd at the knife...
第 20 頁 - Southey and Wordsworth entertained a mutual esteem, but did not cordially like each other. Indeed, it would have been odd if they had. Wordsworth lived in the open air: Southey in his library, which Coleridge used to call his wife. Southey had particularly elegant habits (Wordsworth called them finical) in the use of books. Wordsworth, on the other hand, was so negligent, and so self-indulgent in the same case, that, as Southey laughingly expressed it to me some years afterwards, " To introduce Wordsworth...
第 117 頁 - ... and the fall of heavy drenching rain causing the head to droop, and the shaggy mane, together with the fetlocks, to weep. These, and other circumstances of attitude, &c., bring out the character or prevailing tendency of the animal in some excess ; and, in such a case, we call the resulting effect to the eye — picturesque : or, in fact, characteresquc.
第 14 頁 - Our style of travelling occasioned no astonishment; on the contrary, we met a smiling salutation wherever we appeared — Miss Wordsworth being, as I observed, the person most familiarly known of our party, and the one who took upon herself the whole expenses of the flying colloquies exchanged with stragglers on the road.
第 217 頁 - I resorted constantly to these ' intacks,' as places where I was little liable to disturbance ; and usually I saw her at the opposite side of the field, which might sometimes be at a distance of a quarter of a mile, generally not so much. Always almost she carried a basket on her head ; and usually the first hint upon which the figure arose commenced in wild plants, such as tall ferns, or the purple flowers of the foxglove ; but, whatever might be the colors...
第 279 頁 - GONE were but the winter cold, And gone were but the snow, I could sleep in the wild woods Where primroses blow. Cold's the snow at my head, And cold at my feet; And the finger of death's at my e'en, Closing them to sleep. Let none tell my father Or my mother so dear, — • I'll meet them both in heaven At the spring of the year. Allan Cunningham...
第 195 頁 - Of open schemes, and all his inward hoard Of unsunned griefs, too many and too keen, Was overcome by unexpected sleep, In one blest moment. Like a shadow thrown Softly and lightly from a passing cloud, Death fell upon him...