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Seite 125 - Ah Ben! Say how or when Shall we, thy guests, Meet at those lyric feasts, Made at the Sun, The Dog, the Triple Tun ; Where we such clusters had, As made us nobly wild, not mad? And yet each verse of thine Out-did the meat, out-did the frolic wine.
Seite 323 - A thrill must have passed through your withered old arms! I looked and I longed and I wished in despair; I wished myself turned to a cane-bottomed chair. It was but a moment she sat in this place; She'da scarf on her neck and a smile on her face: A smile on her face, and a rose in her hair, And she sat there and bloomed in my cane-bottomed chair.
Seite 224 - Out from the heart of nature rolled The burdens of the Bible old; The litanies of nations came, Like the volcano's tongue of flame, Up from the burning core below, — The canticles of love and woe...
Seite 127 - Upon Julia's Voice So smooth, so sweet, so silv'ry is thy voice, As, could they hear, the Damn'd would make no noise, But listen to thee, (walking in thy chamber) Melting melodious words, to Lutes of Amber.
Seite 175 - The old blind school-master, John Milton, hath published a tedious poem on the Fall of Man — if its length be not considered as merit, it has no other.
Seite 172 - That eagle's fate and mine are one, Which, on the shaft that made him die, Espied a feather of his own, Wherewith he wont to soar so high. Had Echo, with so sweet a grace, Narcissus' loud complaints return'd, Not for reflection of his face, But of his voice, the boy had burn'd.
Seite 336 - City appeared, at length, in the distance; it looked like - I am half afraid to write the word - like LONDON!!! There it lay, under a thick cloud, with innumerable towers, and steeples, and roofs of houses, rising up into the sky, and high above them all, one Dome. I swear, that keenly as I felt the seeming absurdity of the comparison, it was so like London, at that distance, that if you could have shown it...
Seite 258 - Of bodies chang'd to various forms by Spleen. Here living tea-pots stand, one arm held out, One bent ; the handle this, and that the spout : A pipkin there, like Homer's tripod, walks; Here sighs a jar, and there a goose-pie talks ; Men prove with child, as powerful fancy works, And maids, turn'd bottles, call aloud for corks.
Seite 231 - The other Shape — If shape it might be called that shape had none Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb; Or substance might be called that shadow seemed, For each seemed either — black it stood as Night, Fierce as ten Furies, terrible as Hell, And shook a dreadful dart: what seemed his head The likeness of a kingly crown had on.
Seite 147 - Talking of Pleasure, this moment I was writing with one hand, and with the other holding to my Mouth a Nectarine — good God how fine. It went down soft, pulpy, slushy, oozy — all its delicious embonpoint melted down my throat like a large beatified Strawberry.