The Works of Mr. A. Cowley: In Prose and Verse, 第 1 卷

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John Sharpe, 1809

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第 ii 頁 - ... relates, irrecoverably a poet. Such are the accidents which, sometimes remembered, and, perhaps, sometimes forgotten, produce that particular designation of mind, and propensity for some certain science or employment, which is com.monly called genius. The true genius is a mind of large general powers, accidentally determined to some particular direction.
第 167 頁 - For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight; His can't be wrong whose life is in the right...
第 lii 頁 - Our two souls therefore, which are one, Though I must go, endure not yet A breach, but an expansion, Like gold to airy thinness beat. If they be two, they are two so As stiff twin compasses are two; Thy soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show To move, but doth, if th
第 xxviii 頁 - ... a combination of dissimilar images or discovery of occult resemblances in things apparently unlike. Of wit, thus denned, they have more than enough. The most heterogeneous ideas are yoked by violence together...
第 61 頁 - If I should tell the politic arts To take and keep men's hearts ; The letters, embassies, and spies, The frowns, and smiles, and flatteries, The quarrels, tears, and perjuries (Numberless, nameless, mysteries...
第 28 頁 - Women love't, either in Love or Dress. A thousand different shapes it bears, Comely in thousand shapes appears. Yonder we saw it plain ; and here 'tis now, Like Spirits in a Place, we know not How.
第 166 頁 - And bade to form her infant mind. Stern, rugged nurse ! thy rigid lore With patience many a year she bore ; What sorrow was, thou bad'st her know, And from her own she learn'd to melt at others...
第 lxxxix 頁 - His spear, — to equal which, the tallest pine Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the mast Of some great ammiral, were but a wand...
第 lxxx 頁 - Wash'd from the morning beauties' deepest red; An harmless flaming meteor shone for hair, And fell adown his shoulders with loose care; He cuts out a silk mantle from the skies, Where the most sprightly azure...
第 81 頁 - Thou dost drink, and dance, and sing, Happier than the happiest king ! All the fields which thou dost see, All the plants belong to thee ; All that summer hours produce, Fertile made with early juice. Man for thee does sow and plough ; Farmer he, and landlord thou ! Thou dost innocently joy ; Nor does thy luxury destroy.

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