Recollections of the Table-talk of Samuel Rogers: To which is Added Porsoniana

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E. Moxon, 1856 - Всего страниц: 357
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Стр. 89 - Happy the man - and happy he alone He who can call today his own, He who, secure within, can say 'Tomorrow, do thy worst, for I have lived today: Be fair or foul or rain or shine, The joys I have possessed in spite of Fate are mine: Not Heaven itself upon the Past has power, But what has been has been, and I have had my hour.
Стр. 89 - Happy the man, and happy he alone, He, who can call to-day his own : He who, secure within, can say, To-morrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.
Стр. 8 - Stain my man's cheeks! — No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both That all the world shall, — I will do such things, — What they are yet, I know not; but they shall be The terrors of the earth. You think I'll weep; No, I'll not weep: — I have full cause of weeping; but this heart Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws Or ere I'll weep. — O fool, I shall go mad!
Стр. 221 - By the sweet power of music : therefore, the poet Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods, Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage, But music for the time doth change his nature. The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils : The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus. Let no such man be trusted.
Стр. 35 - Gainst graver hours, that bring constraint To sweeten liberty ; Some bold adventurers disdain The limits of their little reign, And unknown regions dare descry: Still as they run they look behind, They hear a voice in every wind, And snatch a fearful joy. Gay Hope is theirs, by Fancy fed, Less pleasing, when...
Стр. 236 - Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild; Sweet are thy groves, and verdant are thy fields, Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smiled, And still his...
Стр. 194 - O Woman ! in our hours of ease Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou!
Стр. 27 - Oft she rejects, but never once offends. Bright as the sun, her eyes the gazers strike, And, like the sun, they shine on all alike. Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride, Might hide her faults, if belles had faults to hide: If to her share some female errors fall, Look on her face, and you'll forget them all.
Стр. 150 - Know ye not then, said Satan fill'd with scorn. Know ye not me ? ye knew me once no mate For you, there sitting where ye durst not soar Not to know me argues yourselves unknown, The lowest of your throng; or if ye know, Why ask ye, and superfluous begin Your message, like to end as much in vain ? To whom thus Zephon, answering scorn with scorn.

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