Victorian Literature: Sixty Years of Books and Bookmen

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Dodd, Mead, 1897 - 231 páginas
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LibraryThing Review

Procura do Utilizador  - moibibliomaniac - LibraryThing

Because of the title, I thought this book would be about booksellers and book collectors. It is about sixty years of Victorian Literature divided into four chapters: Poets, Novelists, Historians, and Critics. An excellent reference work. Ler crítica na íntegra

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Passagens conhecidas

Página 107 - Who could resist the charm of that spiritual apparition, gliding in the dim afternoon light through the aisles of St Mary's, rising into the pulpit, and then, in the most entrancing of voices, breaking the silence with words and thoughts which were a religious music - subtle, sweet, mournful?
Página 121 - Es leuchtet mir ein, I see a glimpse of it!" cries he elsewhere: "there is in man a Higher than Love of Happiness: he can do without Happiness, and instead thereof find Blessedness!
Página 32 - The sense that every struggle brings defeat Because Fate holds no prize to crown success ; That all the oracles are dumb or cheat Because they have no secret to express ; That none can pierce the vast black veil uncertain Because there is no light beyond the curtain ; That all is vanity and nothingness.
Página 122 - Two men I honor, and no third. First, the toilworn Craftsman that with earth-made Implement laboriously conquers the Earth, and makes her man's. Venerable to me is the hard Hand ; crooked, coarse ; wherein notwithstanding lies a cunning virtue, indefeasibly royal, as of the Sceptre of this Planet. Venerable too is the rugged face, all weather-tanned, besoiled, with its rude intelligence ; for it is the face of a Man living manlike.
Página 25 - Of Heaven or Hell I have no power to sing, I cannot ease the burden of your fears, Or make quick-coming death a little thing...
Página 25 - Dreamer of dreams, born out of my due time, Why should I strive to set the crooked straight ? Let it suffice me that my murmuring rhyme Beats with light wing against the ivory gate, — 25 Telling a tale not too importunate To those who in the sleepy region stay, Lulled by the singer of an empty day.
Página 185 - Bible in Spain; or the Journeys, Adventures, and Imprisonments of an Englishman in an Attempt to circulate the Scriptures in the Peninsula.
Página 125 - O evening sun of July, how, at this hour, thy beams fall slant on reapers amid peaceful woody fields ; on old women spinning in cottages ; on ships far out in the silent main...
Página 16 - I came as one whose thoughts half linger, Half run before; The youngest to the oldest singer That England bore. I found him whom I shall not find Till all grief end, In holiest age our mightiest mind, Father and friend.
Página 52 - Yet these commonplace people — many of them — bear a conscience, and have felt the sublime prompting to do the painful right ; they have their unspoken sorrows and their sacred joys ; their hearts have perhaps gone out towards their first-born, and they have mourned over the irreclaimable dead. Nay, is there not a pathos in their very insignificance — in our comparison ol their dim and narrow existence with the glorious possibilities of that human nature which they share.

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