The Collected Works of William Hazlitt: Lectures on the English poets and on the dramatic literature of the age of Elizabeth, etcJ. M. Dent & Company, 1902 - English essays |
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Page 1
... give of poetry is , that it is the natural impression of any object or event , by its vividness exciting an ... gives birth , and afterwards of its connection with harmony of sound . Poetry is the language of the imagination and the ...
... give of poetry is , that it is the natural impression of any object or event , by its vividness exciting an ... gives birth , and afterwards of its connection with harmony of sound . Poetry is the language of the imagination and the ...
Page 9
... give us their drab- coloured creation in their stead , are not very wise . Let the naturalist , if he will , catch ... gives birth and scope to the imagination ; we can only fancy what we do not know . As in looking into the mazes of a ...
... give us their drab- coloured creation in their stead , are not very wise . Let the naturalist , if he will , catch ... gives birth and scope to the imagination ; we can only fancy what we do not know . As in looking into the mazes of a ...
Page 10
... give any preference , but it should seem that the argument which has been sometimes set up , that paint- ing must ... gives the object itself ; poetry what it implies . ] Painting embodies what a thing contains in itself : poetry ...
... give any preference , but it should seem that the argument which has been sometimes set up , that paint- ing must ... gives the object itself ; poetry what it implies . ] Painting embodies what a thing contains in itself : poetry ...
Page 12
... give the same movement of harmony , sustained and continuous , or gradually varied according to the occasion , to ... gives a tone and colour to others , where one feeling melts others into it , there can be no reason why the same ...
... give the same movement of harmony , sustained and continuous , or gradually varied according to the occasion , to ... gives a tone and colour to others , where one feeling melts others into it , there can be no reason why the same ...
Page 15
... give an echo to the seat where love is throned . ' The heart does not answer of itself like a chord in music . The fancy does not run on before the writer with breathless expectation , but is dragged along with an infinite number of ...
... give an echo to the seat where love is throned . ' The heart does not answer of itself like a chord in music . The fancy does not run on before the writer with breathless expectation , but is dragged along with an infinite number of ...
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admiration affectation Beaumont and Fletcher beauty Beggar's Opera Ben Jonson Boccaccio breath character Chaucer comedy common criticism death delight describes doth dramatic Duchess of Malfy Endymion equal Eumenides excellence eyes Faery Queen fame fancy feeling flowers friends genius give grace hand hath heart heaven honour human idea imagination imitation interest Jonson King labour language learning live look Lord Macbeth manner Milton mind moral Muse nature never night Noble Kinsmen objects Othello Paradise Lost passage passion pathos persons Petrarch play pleasure poem poet poetical poetry Pope praise pride prose quincunxes reader scene Sejanus sense sentiment Shakespear shew Sir Rad song soul sound speak Spenser spirit striking style sublimity sweet taste thee thing thou thought tragedy true truth unto verse wings words writers youth
Popular passages
Page 166 - Each spake words of high disdain And insult to his heart's best brother : They parted — ne'er to meet again ! But never either found another To free the hollow heart from paining — They stood aloof, the scars remaining, Like cliffs which had been rent asunder ; A dreary sea now flows between, But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder, Shall wholly do away, I ween, The marks of that which once hath been.
Page 10 - I have almost forgot the taste of fears. The time has been, my senses would have cool'd To hear a night-shriek ; and my fell of hair, Would at a dismal treatise rouse, and stir, As life were in't. I have supp'd full with horrors : Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me.
Page 72 - Oft she rejects, but never once offends. Bright as the Sun, her Eyes the Gazers strike, And, like the Sun, they shine on all alike. Yet graceful Ease, and Sweetness void of Pride, Might hide her Faults, if Belles had Faults to hide : If to her share some Female Errors fall, Look on her Face, and you'll forget 'em all.
Page 10 - Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream : The genius, and the mortal instruments, Are then in council; and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection.
Page 58 - Memory and her siren daughters ; but by devout prayer to that eternal spirit, who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his seraphim with the hallowed fire of his altar to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases...
Page 82 - All the images of nature were still present to him, and he drew them, not laboriously, but luckily; when he describes anything, you more than see it, you feel it too. Those who accuse him to have wanted learning give him the greater commendation: he was naturally learned; he needed not the spectacles of books to read nature; he looked inwards and found her there.
Page 64 - What though the field be lost? All is not lost; the unconquerable will, And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to submit or yield: And what is else not to be overcome?
Page 314 - To his Coy Mistress Had we but world enough and time, This coyness, lady, were no crime. We would sit down and think which way To walk and pass our long love's day. Thou by the Indian Ganges' side Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide Of Huraber would complain.
Page 188 - Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men May read strange matters : — To beguile the time, Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye, Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under it.
Page 114 - tis madness to defer: Next day the fatal precedent will plead ; Thus on, till wisdom is push'd out of life. Procrastination is the thief of time ; Year after year it steals, till all are fled, And to the mercies of a moment leaves The vast concerns of an eternal scene.