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admiration appeared ballad beautiful Byron called character collection completed composed continued copy critical death early edition England English Essay existence fact famous French gave genius give given hand heart House human hundred idea incident inspiration interesting Italy John Johnson kind known Lady learned leave legend less letters light lines literary literature living London lost manuscript memory Milton mind morning nature never night once origin passed pleasure poem poet poetic poetry popular present productions published reader refer remarkable Robin Hood romance says Scott seems seen sitting sketch song soon spirit story style success suffering suggested supposed tells things thought tion took true verse volume whole wonderful writing written wrote
Página 147 - MY days among the Dead are past ; Around me I behold, Where'er these casual eyes are cast, The mighty minds of old: My never-failing friends are they, With whom I converse day by day.
Página 125 - There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, The earth, and every common sight, To me did seem Apparelled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream. It is not now as it hath been of yore; — Turn wheresoe'er I may, By night or day, The things which I have seen I now can see no more.
Página 31 - MY true love hath my heart, and I have his, By just exchange one for the other given; I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss; There never was a better bargain driven.
Página 118 - It was on the day, or rather night, of the 27th of June 1787, between the hours of eleven and twelve, that I wrote the last lines of the last page, in a summer-house in my garden. After laying down my pen I took several turns in a berceau, or covered walk of acacias, which commands a prospect of the country, the lake, and the mountains.
Página 191 - In the long, sleepless watches of the night, A gentle face — the face of one long dead — Looks at me from the wall, where round its head The night-lamp casts a halo of pale light. Here in this room she died; and soul more white Never through martyrdom of fire was led To its repose; nor can in books be read The legend of a life more benedight.
Página 98 - So live, that, when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan that moves To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon ; but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Página 163 - Soldier hops painfully along, begging alms : a thousand carriages, and wains, and cars, come tumbling in with Food, with young Rusticity, and other Raw Produce, inanimate or animate, and go tumbling out again with produce manufactured. That living flood, pouring through these streets, of all qualities and ages, knowest thou whence it is coming, whither it is going ? Aus der Ewigkeit zu der Eivigkeit hin: From Eternity, onwards to Eternity!
Página 167 - Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore, Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore Of 'Never— nevermore.