The New-York Literary Gazette, and Phi Beta Kappa Repository, Volume 1

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James G. Brooks, 1826 - Literature

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Page 129 - Now, therein, of all sciences (I speak still of human, and according to the human conceit) is our poet the monarch. For he doth not only show the way, but giveth so sweet a prospect into the way as will entice any man to enter into it...
Page 128 - Adam, since our erected wit maketh us know what perfection is, and yet our infected will keepeth us from reaching unto it.
Page 403 - ... settling over some devoted victim of the deep. His eye kindles at the sight, and balancing himself with half-opened wings on the branch, he watches the result. Down, rapid as an arrow from heaven, descends the distant object of his attention, the roar of its wings reaching the ear, as it disappears in the deep, making the surges foam around ! At this moment the eager looks of the eagle are all...
Page 380 - SHALL I, wasting in despair, Die because a woman's fair? Or make pale my cheeks with care 'Cause another's rosy are? Be she fairer than the day, Or the flowery meads in May, If she think not well of me, What care I how fair she be?
Page 128 - ... deeds and praises of their gods, — a sufficient probability that, if ever learning come among them, it must be by having their hard dull wits softened and sharpened with the sweet delights of poetry; for until they find a pleasure in the...
Page 129 - Now doth the peerless poet perform both : for whatsoever the philosopher saith should be done, he giveth a perfect picture of it in some one, by whom he presupposeth it was done. So as he coupleth the general notion with the particular example. A perfect picture, I say; for he yieldeth to the powers of the mind an image of that whereof the philosopher bestoweth but a wordish description: which doth neither strike, pierce, nor possess the sight of the soul so much as that other doth.
Page 131 - I conjure you all that have had the evil luck to read this ink-wasting toy of mine, even in the name of the nine Muses, no more to scorn the sacred mysteries of...
Page 211 - While this, with reverence meet, Ten thousand echoes greet, From rock to rock repeat Round our coast ; While the manners, while the arts, That mould a nation's soul, Still cling around our hearts, — Between let Ocean roll, Our joint communion breaking with the sun : Yet still from either beach The voice of blood shall reach, More audible than speech, "We are One.
Page 130 - By these, therefore, examples and reasons, I think it may be manifest, that the poet, with that same hand of delight, doth draw the mind more effectually than any other art doth.
Page 131 - For example, we are ravished with delight to see a fair woman, and yet are far from being moved to laughter. We laugh at deformed creatures wherein certainly we cannot delight.

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