The Collected Works of William Hazlitt: Lectures on the English poets and on the dramatic literature of the age of Elizabeth, etc

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J. M. Dent & Company, 1902 - English essays

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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.

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