The Indicator, Volume 1Leigh Hunt J. Appleyard, 1820 |
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Page 71
... horses , and coaches , add , no doubt , to this feeling . But a foolish or vain people would only feel a contempt for what they did not possess . Milton , in one of those favourite pas- sages of his , in which he turns a mere vocabulary ...
... horses , and coaches , add , no doubt , to this feeling . But a foolish or vain people would only feel a contempt for what they did not possess . Milton , in one of those favourite pas- sages of his , in which he turns a mere vocabulary ...
Page 82
... horse - dealers ; for in pretending to return a capital horse which he had stolen , he palmed upon the owners a sorry jade of an ass ; which was gravely received by those flats of antiquity . Another time he went still farther ; for ...
... horse - dealers ; for in pretending to return a capital horse which he had stolen , he palmed upon the owners a sorry jade of an ass ; which was gravely received by those flats of antiquity . Another time he went still farther ; for ...
Page 83
... imaginary character of Brunello , as described by Boiardo and Ariosto . He is a fellow that steals every valuable that comes in his way . The way in which he robs Sacripant King of Circassia , of his horse , THE INDICATOR . 83.
... imaginary character of Brunello , as described by Boiardo and Ariosto . He is a fellow that steals every valuable that comes in his way . The way in which he robs Sacripant King of Circassia , of his horse , THE INDICATOR . 83.
Page 84
... horse was stolen from him . ( Orlando Furio . C. 27 , st . 84. ) In the Italian Novels and the old French Tales , are a variety of extremely amusing stories of thieves , all most probably founded on fact . We will give a specimen as we ...
... horse was stolen from him . ( Orlando Furio . C. 27 , st . 84. ) In the Italian Novels and the old French Tales , are a variety of extremely amusing stories of thieves , all most probably founded on fact . We will give a specimen as we ...
Page 97
... horse , waited with some anxiety for the event . " I beg your pardon , Sir , " said he , " but I was not aware that so great a person as the Signor Lodovico Ariosto was passing near me . My name is Filippo Pac- chione ; and when I knew ...
... horse , waited with some anxiety for the event . " I beg your pardon , Sir , " said he , " but I was not aware that so great a person as the Signor Lodovico Ariosto was passing near me . My name is Filippo Pac- chione ; and when I knew ...
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Common terms and phrases
admiration Alcmena appears Ariosto arriving round beautiful Ben Jonson better body busie curious eye C. H. Reynell called Catherine-street Cephalus Chaucer Dæmon death delight divine doth flie face fair fancy Farinonna father favourite fear feel flowers Galatea gentle gentleman give grace hand happy head heard heart heaven honour horse human imagination INDICATOR Italian Joseph Appleyard kind king kiss lady Lamia lived look Lord lover melancholy mind nature never Newsmen night nymph Orders received Ovid pain perhaps Petrarch pleasant pleasure poet poetry Printed by C. H. Procris Pygmalion reader Rhampsinitus round about doth seems Shakspeare shew sleep speak SPENSER spirit stick story survey with busie sweet takes survey Tasso tasteth tenderly Tavistock tears tell thee Theocritus thing thou thought told Triptolemus Turks turn Venice voice word young
Popular passages
Page 3 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank* Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines...
Page 347 - Saturn, quiet as a stone, Still as the silence round about his lair ; Forest on forest hung about his head Like cloud on cloud. No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass, But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.
Page 344 - Until the poppied warmth of sleep oppress'd Her soothed limbs, and soul fatigued away : Flown, like a thought, until the morrow-day ; Blissfully haven'd both from joy and pain ; Clasp'd like a missal where swart Paynims pray ; Blinded alike from sunshine and from rain, As though a rose should shut, and be a bud again.
Page 347 - As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu ! adieu ! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; 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 345 - Ode to a Nightingale MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk : Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
Page 88 - THE fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the Ocean, The winds of Heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one spirit meet and mingle. Why not I with thine?
Page 347 - There was a listening fear in her regard, As if calamity had but begun; As if the vanward clouds of evil days Had spent their malice, and the sullen rear Was with its stored thunder labouring up.
Page 11 - Give me leave To enjoy myself : that place that does contain My books, the best companions, is to me A glorious court, where hourly I converse With the old sages and philosophers ; And sometimes, for variety, I confer With kings and emperors, and weigh their counsels ; Calling their victories, if unjustly got, Unto a strict account, and, in my fancy, Deface their ill-plac'd statues.
Page 44 - The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage! My Shakespeare, rise! I will not lodge thee by Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie A little further, to make thee a room: Thou art a monument without a tomb, And art alive still while thy book doth live And we have wits to read and praise to give.
Page 189 - Sirens' harmony, That sit upon the nine infolded spheres, And sing to those that hold the vital shears, And turn the adamantine spindle round, On which the fate of Gods and men is wound. Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie, To lull the daughters of Necessity, And keep unsteady Nature to her law, And the low world in measured motion draw After the heavenly tune, which none can hear Of human mould, with gross unpurged ear...