Of Many Men

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American News Company, 1888 - 266 páginas
 

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Página 265 - And that inverted Bowl they call the Sky, Whereunder crawling coop'd we live and die, Lift not your hands to It for help — for It As impotently moves as you or I.
Página 265 - But helpless Pieces of the Game He plays Upon this Checker-board of Nights and Days; Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays, And one by one back in the Closet lays.
Página 54 - What profits now to understand The merits of a spotless shirt — A dapper boot —a little hand — If half the little soul is dirt? You talk of tinsel ! why, we see The old mark of rouge upon your cheeks. You prate of Nature ! you are he That spilt his life about the cliques. A TIMON you ! Nay, nay, for shame : It looks too arrogant a jest — The fierce old man — to take his name, You bandbox. Off, and let him rest.
Página 7 - Highway, on Haverstock Hill, on Camberwell Green, in Gray's Inn Lane, in the Wandsworth Road, at Hammersmith Broadway, in Norton Folgate, and at Kensal New Town. "A hansom whirled you by the Bell and Horns at Brompton, and there he was striding, as with seven-league boots, seemingly in the direction of North End, Fulham.
Página 265 - The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.
Página 7 - You don't feel disposed, do you, to muffle yourself up and start off with me for a good brisk walk over Hampstead Heath? I knows a good 'ous there where we can have a red-hot chop for dinner, and a glass of good wine:" which led to our first experience of Jack Straw's Castle, memorable for many happy meetings in coming years.
Página 54 - But you, Sir, you are hard to please; You never look but half content: Nor like a gentleman at ease, With moral breadth of temperament. And what with spites and what with fears, You cannot let a body be: It's always ringing in your ears, 'They call this man as good as me.
Página 247 - Earth proudly wears the Parthenon As the best gem upon her zone ; And Morning opes with haste her lids To gaze upon the Pyramids ; O'er England's Abbeys bends the sky As on its friends with kindred eye ; For, out of Thought's interior sphere These wonders rose to upper air, And nature gladly gave them place, Adopted them into her race, And granted them an equal date With Andes and with Ararat.
Página 53 - WE know him, out of Shakespeare's art, And those fine curses which he spoke ; The old Timon, with his noble heart, That, strongly loathing, greatly broke.
Página 53 - And careless of what this hour may bring, Can pardon little would-be POPES And BRUMMELS, when they try to sting. An Artist, Sir, should rest in Art, And waive a letter of his claim; To have the deep poetic heart Is more than all poetic fame.

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