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 11
... verse . Milton has told us his idea of poetry in a single line- ' Thoughts that voluntary move Harmonious numbers . ' As there are certain sounds that excite certain movements , and the song and dance go together , so there are , no ...
... verse . Milton has told us his idea of poetry in a single line- ' Thoughts that voluntary move Harmonious numbers . ' As there are certain sounds that excite certain movements , and the song and dance go together , so there are , no ...
Page 12
... verse , the golden cadences of poetry , ' with the tide of feeling , flowing and murmuring as it flows - in short , to take the language of the imagination from off the ground , and enable it to spread its wings where it may indulge its ...
... verse , the golden cadences of poetry , ' with the tide of feeling , flowing and murmuring as it flows - in short , to take the language of the imagination from off the ground , and enable it to spread its wings where it may indulge its ...
Page 13
... verse or measured prose . The merchant , as described in Chaucer , went on his way sounding always the increase of his winning . ' Every prose - writer has more or less of rhythmical adaptation , except poets , who , when deprived of ...
... verse or measured prose . The merchant , as described in Chaucer , went on his way sounding always the increase of his winning . ' Every prose - writer has more or less of rhythmical adaptation , except poets , who , when deprived of ...
Page 14
... verse . ' If it is of the essence of poetry to strike and fix the imagination , whether we will or no , to make the eye of childhood glisten with the starting tear , to be never thought of afterwards with indifference , John Bunyan and ...
... verse . ' If it is of the essence of poetry to strike and fix the imagination , whether we will or no , to make the eye of childhood glisten with the starting tear , to be never thought of afterwards with indifference , John Bunyan and ...
Page 44
... verse , nor the high - raised tone of Milton's ; but it is the perfection of melting harmony , dissolving the soul in pleasure , or holding it captive in the chains of suspense . Spenser was the poet of our waking dreams ; and he has ...
... verse , nor the high - raised tone of Milton's ; but it is the perfection of melting harmony , dissolving the soul in pleasure , or holding it captive in the chains of suspense . Spenser was the poet of our waking dreams ; and he has ...
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admiration affectation Beaumont and Fletcher beauty Beggar's Opera Ben Jonson Boccaccio breath character Chaucer comedy common criticism D'Ol death delight describes doth dramatic Duchess of Malfy Endymion equal Eumenides excellence eyes Faery Queen fame fancy feeling genius give grace hand hath heart heaven honour human idea imagination imitation interest Jonson King Knight's Tale 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 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 152 - To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.
Page 59 - And, missing thee, I walk unseen On the dry smooth-shaven green To behold the wandering moon, Riding near her highest noon, Like one that had been led astray Through the heaven's wide pathless way, And oft, as if her head she bowed, Stooping through a fleecy cloud.
Page 166 - 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 - 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 6 - Never, lago. Like to the Pontic sea, Whose icy current and compulsive course Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on To the Propontic and the Hellespont ; Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace, Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love. Till that a capable and wide revenge Swallow them up. — Now, by yond marble heaven, In the due reverence of a sacred vow {Kneels, I here engage my words.
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 137 - The black'ning trains o' craws to their repose : The toil-worn cotter frae his labour goes, This night his weekly moil is at an end, Collects his spades, his mattocks, and his hoes, Hoping the morn in ease and rest to spend, And weary o'er the moor, his course does hameward bend. At length his lonely cot appears in view, Beneath the shelter of an aged tree ; Th' expectant wee-things, toddlin, stacher through To meet their dad, wi' flichterin noise an
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.