Table-talk: Or Original Essays, 第 1 卷

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John Warren, 1821 - 400页

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第291页 - Nay, take my life and all; pardon not that. You take my house, when you do take the prop That doth sustain my house ; you take my life, When you do take the means whereby I live.
第281页 - On some fond breast the parting soul relies, Some pious drops the closing eye requires; Even from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, Even in our ashes live their wonted fires.
第230页 - But he, his own affections' counsellor, Is to himself — I will not say, how true — • But to himself so secret and so close, So far from sounding and discovery, As is the bud bit with an envious worm, Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.
第226页 - I have not loved the world, nor the world me ; I have not flatter'd its rank breath, nor bow'd To its idolatries a patient knee, — Nor coin'd my cheek to smiles, — nor cried aloud In worship of an echo ; in the crowd They could not deem me one of such ; I stood Among them, but not of them...
第224页 - For either He never shall find out fit mate, but such As some misfortune brings him, or mistake ; Or whom he wishes most shall seldom gain, Through her perverseness, but shall see her...
第339页 - For perfect beauty in any species must combine all the characters which are beautiful in that species. It cannot consist in any one to the exclusion of the rest : no one, therefore, must be predominant, that no one may be deficient.
第234页 - There is no part of the world from whence we may not admire those planets which roll, like ours, in different orbits, round the same central sun ; from whence we may not discover an object still more stupendous, that army of fixed stars hung up in the immense space of the universe ; innumerable suns, whose beams enlighten and cherish the unknown worlds which roll around them : and whilst I am ravished by such contemplations as these, whilst my soul is thus raised up to heaven, it imports me little...
第215页 - Howe'er disguised in its own majesty, Is littleness; that he, who feels contempt For any living thing, hath faculties Which he has never used; that thought with him Is in its infancy. The man, whose eye Is ever on himself, doth look on one, The least of nature's works, one who might move The wise man to that scorn which wisdom holds Unlawful, ever.
第219页 - Malbrook to the wars is going " — he did not think of the tumble he has got since, the shock of which no one could have stood but himself. We see and hear chiefly of the favourites of Fortune and the Muse, of great generals, of first-rate actors, of celebrated poets. These are at the head; we are struck with the glittering eminence on which they stand, and long to set out on the same tempting career: — not thinking how many discontented half-pay lieutenants are in vain seeking promotion all their...
第337页 - I have laid down, that the idea of beauty in each species of beings is an invariable one, it may be objected, that in every particular species there are various central forms, which are separate and distinct from each other, and yet are undeniably beautiful ; that in the human figure, for instance, the beauty of Hercules is one, of the Gladiator another, of the Apollo another ; which makes so many different ideas of beauty.

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