Works, Volumen4Pickering, 1836 |
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Términos y frases comunes
Adieu admirable Andrea Sacchi angels Antique appears beautiful Bonstetten Brown called Cambridge Caracci Caravaggio Carlo Cignani Carlo Maderna Carlo Marat castle Christ church colouring Correggio Count Algarotti crags DEAR DOCTOR dear Sir Domenichino Duke Duke of Grafton expression eyes feet garden gout grace GRAY TO DR Gray's ground Guercino Guido hand head hear height hill honour hope House of York Keswick lake late letter London Lord Madonna Mason miles mountains never Nicholls noble Old Park painted passed Pembroke College Pembroke Hall picture pleased pleasure Pray present received rise river road rock Salvator Rosa scene seems seen side Skiddaw stands stone Stonehewer sure taste tell thing thought Titian told tower town trees valley vast walked Walpole Walpole's Wharton Wind wish wood write
Pasajes populares
Página 111 - What has one to do, when turned of fifty, but really to think of finishing ? However, I will be candid (for you seem to be so with me), and avow to you, that till...
Página 308 - I have been reading Gray's Works, and think him the only poet since Shakspeare entitled to the character of sublime. Perhaps you will remember that I once had a different opinion of him. I was prejudiced.
Página 40 - We take it for a translation; and should believe it to be a true story, if it were not for St.
Página 65 - I had discovered a thing very little known, which is,- that in one's whole life one can never have any more than a single mother. You may think this is obvious, and (what you call) a trite observation. You me a green gosling! I was at the same age (very near) as wise as you, and yet I never discovered this (with full evidence and conviction I mean) till it was too late. It is thirteen years ago, and seems but as yesterday, and every day I live it sinks deeper into my heart...
Página 39 - But as when the sun approaches towards the gates of the morning, he first opens a little eye of heaven, and sends away the spirits of darkness, and gives light to a cock, and calls up the lark to matins, and by and by gilds the fringes of a cloud, and peeps over the eastern hills...
Página 195 - I rejoice you have met with Froissart, he is the Herodotus of a barbarous age ; had he but had the luck of writing in as good a language, he might have been immortal. His locomotive disposition (for then there was no other way of learning things), his simple curiosity, his religious credulity, were much like those of the old Grecian.
Página 222 - Gray never wrote any thing easily but things of humour. Humour was his natural and original turn — and though, from his childhood he was grave and reserved, his genius led him to see things ludicrously and satirically; and though his health and dissatisfaction gave him low spirits, his melancholy turn was much more affected than his pleasantry in writing. You knew him enough to know I am in the right — but the world in general always wants to be told how to think, as well as what to think.
Página 163 - I entered Kendal almost in the dusk, and could distinguish only a shadow of the castle on a hill, and tenter grounds spread far and wide round the town, which I mistook for houses. My inn promised sadly, having two wooden galleries (like Scotland) in front of it. It was indeed an old ill-contrived house, but kept by civil sensible people, so I stayed two nights with them, and fared and slept very comfortably.
Página 179 - Never did I feel, my dear Bonstetten, to what a tedious length the few short moments of our life may be extended by impatience and expectation, till you had left me; nor ever knew before with so strong a conviction how much this frail body sympathizes with the inquietude of the mind. I am grown old in the compass of less than three weeks...
Página 86 - If the worst* be not yet past, you will * As this little Billet (which I received at the Hot-Wells neglect and pardon me : but if the last struggle be over; if the poor object of your long anxieties be no longer sensible to your kindness, or to her own sufferings, allow me (at least in idea, for what could I do, were I present, more than this ?) to sit by you in silence, and pity from my heart not her, who is at rest, but you, who lose her.