Recollections of the Last Days of Shelley and Byron

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Ticknor And Fields, 1858 - 304 pages
 

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Page 136 - AN old, mad, blind, despised, and dying king ; Princes, the dregs of their dull race, who flow Through public scorn — mud from a muddy spring ; Rulers, who neither see, nor feel, nor know. But leech-like to their fainting country cling...
Page 42 - Few things surpass old wine ; and they may preach Who please — the more because they preach in vain — Let us have wine and women, mirth and laughter, Sermons and soda-water the day after.
Page 139 - Full fathom five thy father lies, Of his bones are coral made : Those are pearls that were his eyes, Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea change, Into something rich and strange.
Page 37 - THE world is a bundle of hay, Mankind are the asses who pull; Each tugs it a different way, And the greatest of all is John Bull.
Page 107 - That palter with us in a double sense ; That keep the word of promise to our ear, And break it to our hope.
Page 59 - Death is the veil which those who live call life: They sleep, and it is lifted...
Page 22 - ... with which he translated into our language the most subtle and imaginative passages of the Spanish poet, were marvellous, as was his command of the two languages. After this touch of his quality I no longer doubted his identity ; a dead silence ensued ; looking up, I asked, — "'Where is he?' " Mrs. "Williams said, ' Who ? Shelley ? Oh, he comes and goes like a spirit, no one knows when or where.
Page 64 - Image all their roof of leaves, Where the pine its garland weaves Of sapless green and ivy dun Round stems that never kiss the sun; Where the lawns and pastures be, And the sandhills of the sea; — Where the melting hoar-frost wets The daisy-star that never sets, And wind-flowers, and violets, Which yet join not scent to hue...
Page 18 - Now thou art dead, as if it were a part Of thee, my Adonais! I would give All that I am, to be as thou now art:— But I am chained to Time, and cannot thence depart.
Page 237 - When a man hath no freedom to fight for at home, Let him combat for that of his neighbours ; Let him think of the glories of Greece and of Rome, And get knock'd on the head for his labours.

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