The Miscellaneous Prose Works of Sir Walter Scott: Biographical memoirs of eminent novelistsBaudry's European Library, 1838 |
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Página 38
... humour of mine Host and the Wife of Bath ; the pride of the Monk , the humility of the Parson , the learning and poverty of the Scholar , with the rude but comic por- traits of the inferior characters , are , in the history of the life ...
... humour of mine Host and the Wife of Bath ; the pride of the Monk , the humility of the Parson , the learning and poverty of the Scholar , with the rude but comic por- traits of the inferior characters , are , in the history of the life ...
Página 45
... humour with which he describes its effects . " I like your late Englishe Hexameters so exceedingly well , that I also enure my penne worde , neither so harde nor so harshe , that sometime in that kinde : whyche I fynd indeed , as I have ...
... humour with which he describes its effects . " I like your late Englishe Hexameters so exceedingly well , that I also enure my penne worde , neither so harde nor so harshe , that sometime in that kinde : whyche I fynd indeed , as I have ...
Página 66
... humour . " One of the greatest complaints made by the ladies against the first volume of our collection , and indeed the only one which has reached my ears , is the want of merry songs . I believe I may give a pretty good guess at what ...
... humour . " One of the greatest complaints made by the ladies against the first volume of our collection , and indeed the only one which has reached my ears , is the want of merry songs . I believe I may give a pretty good guess at what ...
Página 70
... woods of Rokeby , and the romantic banks of the Greta - her size and ferocity are de- gave her to the Friars of Richmond , provided they scribed with great emphasis . The Lord of Rokeby , a man of humour , 70 POETICAL CRITICISM .
... woods of Rokeby , and the romantic banks of the Greta - her size and ferocity are de- gave her to the Friars of Richmond , provided they scribed with great emphasis . The Lord of Rokeby , a man of humour , 70 POETICAL CRITICISM .
Página 71
... humour , re- sembles the " Tournament of Tottenham " ( See Percy's Reliques , vol . ii . ) , in which the peasants of a village are introduced imitating all the solemnities of a tournament , and battering each other's heads with flails ...
... humour , re- sembles the " Tournament of Tottenham " ( See Percy's Reliques , vol . ii . ) , in which the peasants of a village are introduced imitating all the solemnities of a tournament , and battering each other's heads with flails ...
Términos y frases comunes
affected Amadis Amadis de Gaul ancient appears ballads bard beautiful betwixt Bunyan Caleb Williams called castle character Chatterton Chaucer chivalry circumstances comedy composition Courcy criticism daughter death Ellis English expression eyes fancy father feeling Fleetwood French Galaor genius Gertrude of Wyoming Godwin hand heart hero honour Hôtel de Rambouillet human humour imagination imitation interest John Bunyan John of Gaunt Kehama King knight labours Ladurlad lady language length Lisuarte Lord Lord Byron manner merit metrical romances mind minstrels Molière Molière's moral narrative nature never novel original passages passion perhaps person piece Pilgrim Pilgrim's Progress pleasure poem poet poetical poetry possessed present prose racter reader resemblance ridicule Rowley Samothes satire scene seems sentiments singular song Southey Spenser spirit stanzas story style supposed tale talents taste thee thou thought tion Tizona verse young Zaira
Pasajes populares
Página 160 - I STOOD in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs, A palace and a prison on each hand ; I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand : A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land Look'd to the winged Lion's marble piles, Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles...
Página 449 - O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword; The expectancy and rose of the fair state, The glass of fashion and the mould of form, The observed of all observers, quite, quite down!
Página 234 - Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand : Why dost thou lash that whore ? strip thine own back ; Thou hotly lust'st to use her in that kind, For which thou whipp'st her.
Página 120 - Had we never loved sae kindly, Had we never loved sae blindly, Never met, or never parted, We had ne'er been broken-hearted.
Página 155 - It might be months, or years, or days, I kept no count — I took no note, I had no hope my eyes to raise, And clear them of their dreary mote ; At last men came to set me free...
Página 217 - Or, would'st thou lose thyself, and catch no harm ? And find thyself again without a charm ? Would'st read thyself, and read thou know'st not what, And yet know whether thou art blest or not, By reading the same lines ? O, then, come hither ; And lay my book, thy head and heart together.
Página 449 - ... crash And merciless ravage: and the shady nook Of hazels, and the green and mossy bower, Deformed and sullied, patiently gave up Their quiet being: and unless I now Confound my present feelings with the past...
Página 276 - It stood still, but I could not discern the form thereof: an image was before mine eyes, there was silence, and I heard a voice, saying, ""Shall mortal man be more just than God?
Página 162 - And even since, and now, fair Italy ! Thou art the garden of the world, the home Of all Art yields, and Nature (') can decree ; Even in thy desert, what is like to thee ? Thy very weeds are beautiful, thy waste ; More rich than other climes' fertility ; Thy wreck a glory, and thy ruin graced With an immaculate charm which cannot be defaced.
Página 164 - Were with his heart, and that was far away ; He reck'd not of the life he lost nor prize, But where his rude hut by the Danube lay, There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother — he, their sire, Butcher'd to make a Roman holiday — All this rush'd with his blood — Shall he expire And unavenged? Arise! ye Goths, and glut your ire!