The letters of Charles Lamb, with a sketch of his life. The poetical works

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Harper & brothers, 1838
 

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Page 339 - All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. I have a friend, a kinder friend has no man ; Like an ingrate, I left my friend abruptly — Left him to muse on the old familiar faces.
Page 151 - Specimens of English Dramatic Poets who lived about the time of Shakspeare...
Page 331 - A month or more hath she been dead, Yet cannot I by force be led To think upon the wormy bed, And her together. A springy motion in her gait, A rising step, did indicate Of pride and joy no common rate, That flush'd her spirit. I know not by what name beside I shall it call : — if 'twas not pride, It was a joy to that allied, She did inherit.
Page 161 - The pleasure-house is dust : behind, before, This is no common waste, no common gloom ; But Nature, in due course of time, once more Shall here put on her beauty and her bloom. "She leaves these objects to a slow decay, That what we are, and have been, may be known ; But at the coming of the milder day These monuments shall all be overgrown.
Page 62 - O happy living things! No tongue Their beauty might declare: A spring of love gush'd from my heart, And I bless'd them unaware: Sure my kind saint took pity on me, And I bless'd them unaware.
Page 44 - Truly the light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun...
Page 108 - The lighted shops of the Strand and Fleet Street ; the innumerable trades, tradesmen, and customers, coaches, waggons, playhouses, all the bustle and wickedness round about Covent Garden ; the watchmen, drunken scenes, rattles — life awake if you awake at all hours of the night ; the impossibility of being dull in Fleet Street ; the crowds, the very dirt and mud, the sun shining upon houses and pavements, the...
Page 29 - Coleridge, you know not my supreme happiness at having one on earth (though counties separate us) whom I can call a friend. Remember you those tender lines of Logan ? — " Our broken friendships we deplore, And loves of youth that are no more ; No after friendships e'er can raise Th' endearments of our early days, And ne'er the heart such fondness prove, As when we first began to love.
Page 112 - I never shall forget ye, how ye lay about that night, like an intrenchment ; gone to bed, as it seemed for the night, but promising that ye were to be seen in the morning. Coleridge had got a blazing fire in his study ; which is a large antique, ill-shaped room, with an old-fashioned organ, never played upon, big enough for a church, shelves of scattered folios, an ^Eolian harp, and an old sofa, half bed, &c.
Page 61 - And kill sick people groaning under walls; Sometimes I go about and poison wells; And now and then, to cherish Christian thieves, I am content to lose some of my crowns, That I may, walking in my gallery, See 'em go pinioned along by my door.

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