Imagination and Fancy: Or, Selections from the English Poets, Illustrative of Those First Requisites of Their Art; with Markings of the Best Passages, Critical Notices of the Writers, and an Essay in Answer to the Question, "What is Poetry?"
Wiley and Putnam, 1845 - 255 pages
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alliteration appear beauty breath bring Character charm comes dance deep delight doth dream earth Enter eyes face fair fairy fancy fear feeling fire flowers give golden grace greatest hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hence imagination kind king lady leave less light live look lord mean Milton mind moon mortal nature never night once pain painted passage passion perhaps play poem poet poetical poetry pray queen reader rest rich round seems seen sense Shakspeare sing sleep soft sometimes song soul sound speak Spenser spirit story sweet tell thee things thou thought tree true truth turn verse whole wild wind wings wish witch wood writing young
Page 221 - Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear: If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near. Better than all measures Of delightful sound, Better than all treasures That in books are found, Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground! Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know, • Such harmonious madness From my lips would flow, The world should listen then, as I am listening now.
Page 123 - That very time I saw (but thou couldst not), Flying between the cold moon and the earth, Cupid all arm'd : a certain aim he took At a fair vestal throned by the west, And loos'd his love-shaft smartly from his bow, As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts : But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft Quench'd in the chaste beams of the watery moon, And the imperial votaress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free.
Page 181 - To hear the lark begin his flight, And singing startle the dull night, From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn doth rise...
Page 254 - Homer ruled as his demesne : Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken ; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He...
Page 253 - Forlorn! the very word is like a bell To toll me back from thee to my sole self! Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf. Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hillside; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — Do I wake or sleep?
Page 240 - While he from forth the closet brought a heap Of candied apple, quince, and plum, and gourd; With jellies soother than the creamy curd, And lucent syrops, tinct with cinnamon; Manna and dates, in argosy transferr'd From Fez; and spiced dainties, every one, From silken Samarcand to cedar'd Lebanon.
Page 47 - The great secret of morals is love ; or a going out of our own nature, and an identification of ourselves ' with the beautiful which exists in thought, action, or person, not our own. A man, to be greatly good, must imagine intensely and comprehensively ; he must put himself in the place of another and of many others; the pains and pleasures of his species must become his own.
Page 32 - Was everything by starts, and nothing long; But, in the course of one revolving moon, Was chemist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon: Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking, Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking. Blest madman ! who could every hour employ With something new to wish or to enjoy! Railing and praising were his usual themes, And both (to show his judgment) in extremes; So over violent, or over civil, That every man, with him, was God or devil. In squandering wealth...
Page 195 - And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes. Now, Lycidas, the shepherds weep no more; Henceforth thou art the Genius of the shore In thy large recompense, and shalt be good To all that wander in that perilous flood.
Page 182 - With store of ladies, whose bright eyes Rain influence, and judge the prize Of wit or arms, while both contend To win her grace, whom all commend. There let Hymen oft appear In saffron robe, with taper clear, And pomp, and feast, and revelry, With mask, and antique pageantry; Such sights as youthful poets dream On summer eves by haunted stream.