The universal anthology, a collection of the best literature, with biographical and explanatory notes, ed. by R. Garnett, L. Vallée, A. Brandl. Imperial ed, Volume 23Richard Garnett 1899 |
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Page xv
... live and work simultaneously , each one of whom would have sufficed to glorify a century . In the seventeenth century the magic power turns to the Netherlands , and produces that marvellous outburst when the painters not only numbered ...
... live and work simultaneously , each one of whom would have sufficed to glorify a century . In the seventeenth century the magic power turns to the Netherlands , and produces that marvellous outburst when the painters not only numbered ...
Page xxx
... live in constant antagonism with one's epoch , it is still more so to enthusiastically conform to its every vagary , and not to wish to enjoy , or value the works which have preceded us . The present moment is a stage of the large and ...
... live in constant antagonism with one's epoch , it is still more so to enthusiastically conform to its every vagary , and not to wish to enjoy , or value the works which have preceded us . The present moment is a stage of the large and ...
Page xxxii
... him aside . Such an atrocious treachery was more repugnant to me than the exploits of Artagnan in the Three Musketeers , by Alexandre Dumas , père . To live in an ideal world is the best thing xxxii THE DECADENCE OF MODERN LITERATURE.
... him aside . Such an atrocious treachery was more repugnant to me than the exploits of Artagnan in the Three Musketeers , by Alexandre Dumas , père . To live in an ideal world is the best thing xxxii THE DECADENCE OF MODERN LITERATURE.
Page xxxiii
Richard Garnett. To live in an ideal world is the best thing for an artist to do . Imagination is the magic wand that transforms the world and embellishes it . But at the same time one ought to steep oneself occasionally in reality ...
Richard Garnett. To live in an ideal world is the best thing for an artist to do . Imagination is the magic wand that transforms the world and embellishes it . But at the same time one ought to steep oneself occasionally in reality ...
Page xxxiv
... live one life . " For those novelists , whose imagination has not risen to that supreme height of strength to permit them to write without care- ful daily observation , real data is of absolute necessity , but as a powerful aid to the ...
... live one life . " For those novelists , whose imagination has not risen to that supreme height of strength to permit them to write without care- ful daily observation , real data is of absolute necessity , but as a powerful aid to the ...
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Popular passages
Page 91 - THE SEA. The Sea ! the Sea ! the open Sea ! The blue, the fresh, the ever free ! Without a mark, without a bound, It runneth the earth's wide regions 'round ; It plays with the clouds ; it mocks the skies ; Or like a cradled creature lies.
Page 262 - Horror the soul of the plot. But see, amid the mimic rout, A crawling shape intrude! A blood-red thing that writhes from out The scenic solitude! It writhes! - it writhes! - with mortal pangs The mimes become its food, And the seraphs sob at vermin fangs In human gore imbued.
Page 355 - There warn't no stoves (tell comfort died) To bake ye to a puddin'. The wa'nut logs shot sparkles out Towards the pootiest, bless her, An' leetle flames danced all about The chiny on the dresser.
Page 138 - WITH deep affection And recollection I often think of Those Shandon bells, Whose sounds so wild would, In the days of childhood, Fling round my cradle Their magic spells.
Page 322 - Take heed, that in thy verse Thou dost the tale rehearse, Else dread a dead man's curse; For this I sought thee. "Far in the Northern Land, By the wild Baltic's strand, I, with my childish hand, Tamed the gerfalcon; And, with my skates fast-bound, Skimmed the half-frozen Sound, That the poor, whimpering hound Trembled to walk on.
Page 318 - MAIDEN ! with the meek, brown eyes, In whose orbs a shadow lies Like the dusk in evening skies ! Thou whose locks outshine the sun, Golden tresses, wreathed in one, As the braided streamlets run ! Standing, with reluctant feet. Where the brook and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet ! Gazing, with a timid glance.
Page 324 - And as to catch the gale Round veered the flapping sail, Death ! was the helmsman's hail, Death without quarter...
Page 78 - I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill ; but time and chance happeneth to them all.
Page 296 - But this labor concluded, he may have thought it expedient to remove all participants in his secret. Perhaps a couple of blows with a mattock were sufficient, while his coadjutors were busy in the pit; perhaps it required a dozen — who shall tell ? " THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER; OR THE BLACK BROTHERS.
Page 321 - SPEAK. ! speak ! thou fearful guest ! Who, with thy hollow breast Still in rude armor drest, Comest to daunt me ! Wrapt not in Eastern balms, But with thy fleshless palms Stretched, as if asking alms, Why dost thou haunt me...