The works of Samuel Johnson, Band 6

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Seite 310 - From harmony, from heavenly harmony This universal frame began: From harmony to harmony Through all the compass of the notes it ran, The diapason closing full in Man.
Seite 51 - His spear, — to equal which, the tallest pine Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the mast Of some great ammiral, were but a wand...
Seite 60 - Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, And without sneering, teach the rest to sneer; Willing to wound and yet afraid to strike, Just hint a fault and hesitate dislike; Alike...
Seite 303 - And now approach'd their fleet from India, fraught With all the riches of the rising sun ; And precious sand from southern climates brought, The fatal regions where the war begun.
Seite 117 - We drove a-field, and both together heard What time the gray-fly winds her sultry horn, Battening our flocks with the fresh dews of night, Oft till the star that rose at evening bright Toward heaven's descent had sloped his westering wheel.
Seite 31 - To move, but doth if th' other do. And though it in the center sit, Yet when the .other far doth roam, It leans and hearkens after it, And grows erect as that comes home. Such wilt thou be to me, who must, Like th' other foot, obliquely run: Thy firmness makes my circle just, And makes me end where I begun.
Seite 23 - On a round ball A workeman that hath copies by, can lay An Europe, Afrique, and an Asia, And quickly make that, which was nothing, All...
Seite 172 - I take my subjects' money, when I want it, without all this formality of parliament?" The bishop of Durham readily answered, "God forbid, Sir, but you should: you are the breath of our nostrils." Whereupon the King turned and said to the bishop of Winchester, "Well, my Lord, what say you?" "Sir," replied the bishop, "I have no skill to judge of parliamentary cases." The King answered, "No put-offs, my Lord; answer me presently.
Seite 117 - In this poem there is no nature, for there is no truth ; there is no art, for there is nothing new. Its form is that of a pastoral; easy, vulgar, and therefore disgusting ; whatever images it can supply are long ago exhausted; and its inherent improbability always forces dissatisfaction on the mind.
Seite 18 - What they wanted, however, of the sublime, they endeavoured to supply by hyperbole ' their amplification had no limits ; they left not only reason but fancy behind them, and produced combinations of confused magnificence that not only could not be credited, but could not be imagined.

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