The Praise of Shakespeare: An English Anthology

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Methuen & Company, 1904 - 342 sider
 

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Side 67 - He was the man who of all modern, and perhaps ancient poets, had the largest and most comprehensive soul. All the images of nature were still present to him, and he drew them not laboriously, but luckily: when he describes anything, you more than see it, you feel it too.
Side 130 - No man was ever yet a great poet, without being at the same time a profound philosopher. For poetry is the blossom and the fragrancy of all human knowledge, human thoughts, human passions, emotions, language.
Side 35 - Lucrece," his sugared sonnets among his private friends, etc. As Plautus and Seneca are accounted the best for Comedy and Tragedy among the Latins, so Shakespeare among the English is the most excellent in both kinds for the stage...
Side 46 - His mind and hand went together ; and what he thought, he uttered with that easiness, that we have scarce received from him a blot in his papers.
Side 34 - Not marble, nor the gilded monuments Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme ; But you shall shine more bright in these contents Than unswept stone, besmear'd with sluttish time. When wasteful war shall statues overturn, And broils root out the work of masonry, Nor Mars his sword nor war's quick fire shall burn The living record of your memory.
Side iv - Who is it that says most? Which can say more, Than this rich praise: that you alone are you, In whose confine immured is the store Which should example where your equal grew .? Lean penury within that pen doth dwell That to his subject lends not some small glory; But he that writes of you, if he can tell That you are you, so dignifies his story.
Side 43 - Yet must I not give nature all; thy art, My gentle Shakespeare, must enjoy a part;' For though the poet's matter nature be, His art doth give the fashion; and that he Who casts to write a living line, must sweat, Such as thine are, and strike the second heat Upon the Muses...
Side 169 - SHAKESPEARE Others abide our question. Thou art free. We ask and ask — Thou smilest and art still, Out-topping knowledge. For the loftiest hill, Who to the stars uncrowns his majesty, Planting his steadfast footsteps in the sea, Making the heaven of heavens his dwellingplace, Spares but the cloudy border of his base To the...
Side 111 - The work of a correct and regular writer is a garden accurately formed and diligently planted, varied with shades, and scented with flowers: the composition of Shakespeare is a forest, in which oaks extend their branches, and pines tower in the air, interspersed sometimes with weeds and brambles, and sometimes giving shelter to myrtles and to roses; filling the eye with awful pomp, and gratifying the mind with endless di~ versity.
Side 49 - WHAT needs my Shakespeare, for his honour'd bones, The labour of an age in piled stones? Or that his hallow d relics should be hid Under a star-ypointing pyramid? Dear son of memory, great heir of fame, What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name? Thou, in our wonder and astonishment, Hast built thyself a livelong monument.

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