George Meredith: Some CharacteristicsElkin Mathews, 1890 - 168 páginas |
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A. C. Swinburne American Copyright Editions appeared in Once April Arthur Symons Athenæum Author's American Copyright beauty Boston brain Chapman & Hall chapters character Charlotte Brontë Colonial Edition comedy comic Crown 8vo Diana Earth Editions of 1886 Egoist English Collected Editions Evan Harrington eyes feel Ferdinand Lassalle Fortnightly Review George Meredith George Meredith's Novels heart illustration issued by Messrs J. M. Barrie James Thomson July June Lady Laetitia Letter Literary London Modern Love nature novelist Ordeal of Richard originally appeared Pall Mall Gazette phrase Pilgrim's Scrip poem poet poetry prose Quarterly Magazine reader Reprinted by Messrs REVIEWS-The Rhoda Fleming Richard Feverel Roberts Brothers Roy Richmond Sandra Belloni Saturday Review second English Collected Sept Shaving of Shagpat Sir Willoughby sonnet story style thing Tragic Comedians verse W. E. Henley Westminster Review woman writing
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Página 124 - They wandered once; clear as the dew on flowers: But they fed not on the advancing hours: Their hearts held cravings for the buried day. Then each applied to each that fatal knife, Deep questioning, which probes to endless dole. Ah, what a dusty answer gets the soul When hot for certainties in this our life...
Página 133 - THE WOODS OF WESTERMAIN ENTER these enchanted woods, You who dare. Nothing harms beneath the leaves More than waves a swimmer cleaves. Toss your heart up with the lark, Foot at peace with mouse and worm, Fair you fare. Only at a dread of dark Quaver, and they quit their form: Thousand eyeballs under hoods Have you by the hair. Enter these enchanted woods, You who dare.
Página 110 - By this he knew she wept with waking eyes : That, at his hand's light quiver by her head, The strange low sobs that shook their common bed, Were called into her with a sharp surprise, And strangled mute, like little gaping snakes, Dreadfully venomous to him. She lay Stone-still, and the long darkness flowed away With muffled pulses. Then, as midnight makes Her giant heart of Memory and Tears Drink the pale drug of silence, and so beat Sleep's heavy measure, they from head to feet Were moveless, looking...
Página 123 - We saw the swallows gathering in the sky, And in the osier-isle we heard them noise. We had not to look back on summer joys, Or forward to a summer of bright dye: But in the largeness of the evening earth Our spirits grew as we went side by side. The hour became her husband and my bride. Love that had robbed us so, thus blessed our dearth ! The pilgrims of the year waxed...
Página 132 - He played on men, as his master, Phoebus, on strings Melodious: as the God did he drive and check, Through love exceeding a simple love of the things That glide in grasses and rubble of woody wreck.
Página 51 - You may estimate your capacity for Comic perception by being able to detect the ridicule of them you love, without loving them less : and more by being able to see yourself somewhat ridiculous in dear eyes, and accepting the correction their image of you proposes.
Página 124 - But there's a strength to help the desperate weak. That night he learned how silence best can speak The awful things when Pity pleads for Sin. About the middle of the night her call Was heard, and he came wondering to the bed. "Now kiss me, dear! it may be, now!
Página 123 - We had not to look back on summer joys, Or forward to a summer of bright dye: But in the largeness of the evening earth Our spirits grew as we went side by side. The hour became her husband and my bride. Love that had robbed us so, thus blessed our dearth! The pilgrims of the year waxed very loud...
Página 96 - She chattered snatches of Venetian caught from the gondoliers, she was like a delicate cup of crystal brimming with the beauty of the place, and making one of them drink in all his impressions through her. Her features had the soft irregularities which run to rarities of beauty, as the ripple rocks the light...
Página 111 - Ha! what a sense it is when her eyes swim Across the man she singles, leaving dark All else! Lord God, who mad'st the thing so fair, See that I am drawn to her even now! It cannot be such harm on her cool brow To put a kiss? Yet if I meet him there! But she is mine! Ah, no! I know too well I claim a star whose light is overcast: I claim a phantom-woman in the Past. The hour has struck, though I heard not the bell!