Don Juan

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Thomas Davison, 1819 - 227 pages

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Page 105 - I'll write poetical commandments, which Shall supersede beyond all doubt all those That went before ; in these I shall enrich My text with many things that no one knows, And carry precept to the highest pitch ; I'll call the work, " Longinus o'er a Bottle, Or, Every Poet his own Aristotle.
Page 212 - A long, long kiss, a kiss of youth, and love, And beauty, all concentrating like rays Into one focus, kindled from above; Such kisses as belong to early days, Where heart, and soul, and sense, in concert move, And the blood's lava, and the pulse a blaze, Each kiss a heart-quake — for a kiss's strength, I think, it must be reckon'd by its length.
Page 145 - Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell, Then shriek'd the timid, and stood still the brave, Then some leap'd overboard with dreadful yell, As eager to anticipate their grave ; And the sea yawn'd around her like a hell, And down she suck'd with her the whirling wave, Like one who grapples with his enemy, And strives to strangle him before he die.
Page 3 - I want a hero: an uncommon want, When every year and month sends forth a new one. Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant, The age discovers he is not the true one...
Page 64 - From leaf to leaf ; tis sweet to view on high The rainbow, based on ocean, span the sky. 'Tis sweet to hear the watch-dog's honest bark Bay deep-mouth'd welcome as we draw near home ; 'Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark Our coming, and look brighter when we come...
Page 163 - The other father had a weaklier child, Of a soft cheek, and aspect delicate ; But the boy bore up long, and with a mild And patient spirit held aloof his fate ; Little he said, and now and then he smiled, As if to win a part from off the weight He saw increasing on his father's heart. With the deep deadly thought that they must part.
Page 24 - Ovid's a rake, as half his verses show him, Anacreon's morals are a still worse sample, Catullus scarcely has a decent poem, I don't think Sappho's Ode a good example, Although Longinus tells us there is no hymn Where the sublime soars forth on wings more ample: But Virgil's songs are pure, except that horrid one Beginning with 'Formosum Pastor Corydon'.
Page 69 - Tis pity though, in this sublime world, that Pleasure's a sin, and sometimes sin's a pleasure ; Few mortals know what end they would be at, But whether glory, power, or love, or treasure, The path is through perplexing ways, and when The goal is gain'd, we die, you know— and then CXXXIV. What then ?— I do not know — no more do you—- And so good night.
Page 128 - And oh! if e'er I should forget, I swear But that's impossible, and cannot be Sooner shall this blue ocean melt to air, Sooner shall earth resolve itself to sea, Than I resign thine image, oh, my fair! Or think of anything, excepting thee; A mind diseased no remedy can physic...
Page 211 - Circling all nature, hush'd, and dim, and still, With the far mountain-crescent half surrounded On one side, and the deep sea calm and chill Upon the other, and the rosy sky With one star sparkling through it like an eye.

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