Pleasures, Objects, and Advantages of Literature: A Discourse

الغلاف الأمامي
Thomas Bosworth, 1854 - 322 من الصفحات
 

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الصفحة 12 - Where a new world leaps out at his command, And ready nature waits upon his hand ; When the ripe colours soften and unite, And sweetly melt into just shade and light ; When mellowing years their full perfection give( And each bold figure just begins to live, The treacherous colours the fair art betray, And all the bright creation fades away...
الصفحة 98 - Phlegra with the heroic race were join'd That fought at Thebes and Ilium, on each side Mix'd with auxiliar gods ; and what resounds In fable or romance of Uther's son...
الصفحة 160 - Youth! for years so many and sweet, 'Tis known that Thou and I were one, I'll think it but a fond conceit— It cannot be that Thou art gone!
الصفحة 102 - The abilities of man must fall short on one side or other, like too scanty a blanket when you are a-bed, if you pull it upon your shoulders you leave your feet bare; if you thrust it down upon your feet, your shoulders are uncovered.
الصفحة 177 - I took as much delight in reading as you do ; it would be the means of alleviating many tedious hours in my present retirement. But, to my misfortune, I derive no pleasure from such pursuits.
الصفحة 263 - Paint me an angel, with wings and a trumpet, to trumpet my name over the world.
الصفحة 124 - For gain, not glory, wing'd his roving flight, And grew immortal in his own despite.
الصفحة 293 - O bliss, when all in circle drawn About him, heart and ear were fed To hear him as he lay and read The Tuscan poets on the lawn: Or in the all-golden afternoon A guest, or happy sister, sung, Or here she brought the harp and flung A ballad to the brightening moon...
الصفحة 165 - ... historic page. There, Shakespeare's self, with every garland crown'd, Flew to those fairy climes his fancy sheen, In musing hour, his wayward Sisters found, And with their terrors drest the magic scene. From them he sung, when, 'mid his bold design, Before the Scot, afflicted, and aghast ! The shadowy kings of Banquo's fated line Through the dark cave in gleamy pageant pass'd.
الصفحة 154 - And ever-drizling raine upon the loft, Mixt with a murmuring winde, much like the sowne Of swarming bees, did cast him in a swowne : No other noyse, nor peoples troublous cryes, As still are wont t" annoy the walled towne, Might there be heard : but carelesse Quiet lyes, Wrapt in eternall silence farre from enimyes.

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