American Whig Review, 第 1 卷 |
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第 1 到 5 筆結果，共 5 筆
第 15 頁
Through it he could, and did, exclude every man from office who stood in his way,
manufactured “public opinion” to meet any possible emergency, give to his
suggestions the imperiousness of law, and yet completely cover up the while
both ...
Through it he could, and did, exclude every man from office who stood in his way,
manufactured “public opinion” to meet any possible emergency, give to his
suggestions the imperiousness of law, and yet completely cover up the while
both ...
第 192 頁
Such is the occasion on which Goethe opens to our view Egmont's prison, and
gives him that long soliloquy which has already been quoted. The Count
remembers how sweetly he used to sleep. He images himself as some vast tree.
Such is the occasion on which Goethe opens to our view Egmont's prison, and
gives him that long soliloquy which has already been quoted. The Count
remembers how sweetly he used to sleep. He images himself as some vast tree.
第 485 頁
Most assuredly all good reading is hard work; nay it is good chiefly because it is
hard, plucking our laziness by the nose, in order to give us health and strength. If
an author do anything but revive our old thoughts in a new dress, assuredly we ...
Most assuredly all good reading is hard work; nay it is good chiefly because it is
hard, plucking our laziness by the nose, in order to give us health and strength. If
an author do anything but revive our old thoughts in a new dress, assuredly we ...
第 493 頁
Macauley's Essays are like finished pieces of furniture, elegant but lifeless;
Carlyle's are like crooked, scraggy trees, ugly, but full of life. The former gives the
reader his thoughts in the most polished style; the latter sets the reader a-thinking
any ...
Macauley's Essays are like finished pieces of furniture, elegant but lifeless;
Carlyle's are like crooked, scraggy trees, ugly, but full of life. The former gives the
reader his thoughts in the most polished style; the latter sets the reader a-thinking
any ...
第 580 頁
As yet, then, there are not causes, external to literature, which, acting upon it, can,
unless very slowly, displace that which we inherit and give us a new one. And
now of those agencies from within themselves, which continually modify Letters ...
As yet, then, there are not causes, external to literature, which, acting upon it, can,
unless very slowly, displace that which we inherit and give us a new one. And
now of those agencies from within themselves, which continually modify Letters ...
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第 145 頁 - Nevermore." "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! prophet still, if bird or devil! Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted — On this home by Horror haunted — tell me truly, I implore: Is there — is there balm in Gilead? — tell me — tell me, I implore!
第 60 頁 - O Lady! we receive but what we give, And in our life alone does Nature live : Ours is her wedding garment, ours her shroud ! And would we aught behold, of higher worth, Than that inanimate cold world allowed To the poor loveless ever-anxious crowd, Ah ! from the soul itself must issue forth A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud Enveloping the Earth...
第 480 頁 - Dreams, books, are each a world ; and books, we know, Are a substantial world, both pure and good : Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, Our pastime and our happiness will grow.
第 145 頁 - But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust, and door ; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore — What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking "Nevermore.
第 143 頁 - And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me— filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, "* Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door, Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door: This it is and nothing more.
第 177 頁 - Truth crushed to earth, will rise again ; The eternal years of God are hers: But Error, wounded, writhes in pain, And dies amid her worshippers.
第 480 頁 - Many a man lives a burden to the earth; but a good book is the precious life-blood of a master spirit, embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life.
第 387 頁 - Her voice was good, and the ditty fitted for it ; it was that smooth song which was made by Kit Marlow, now at least fifty years ago ; and the milk-maid's mother sung an answer to it, which was made by Sir Walter Raleigh, in his younger days. They were old-fashioned poetry, but choicely good ; I think much better than the strong lines that are now in fashion in this critical age.
第 185 頁 - What is the cause, Laertes, That thy rebellion looks so giant-like ? Let him go, Gertrude ; do not fear our person ; There's such divinity doth hedge a king, That treason can but peep to what it would, Acts little of his will.
第 151 頁 - Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil, Nor in the glistering foil Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies, But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes, And perfect witness of all-judging Jove; As he pronounces lastly on each deed, Of so much fame in Heaven expect thy meed.