Poetic Treasures: Or, Passages from the Poets. Chronologically ArrangedWard, Lock & Company, 1881 - 644 страници |
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Страница xvi
... Pleasures 438 8. Self - knowledge CCLIX . - JOHN MAYNE , 1761-1836 . Helen of Kirkconnel CCLX . - HILDEBRAND JACOB , 1762-18 ** . 1. Trifles 2. Anger CCLXI . - WILL . LISLE BOWLES , 1762-1850 . Sun - dial in a Churchyard CCLXII . - GEO ...
... Pleasures 438 8. Self - knowledge CCLIX . - JOHN MAYNE , 1761-1836 . Helen of Kirkconnel CCLX . - HILDEBRAND JACOB , 1762-18 ** . 1. Trifles 2. Anger CCLXI . - WILL . LISLE BOWLES , 1762-1850 . Sun - dial in a Churchyard CCLXII . - GEO ...
Страница xix
... Pleasure and Pain CCCX . - RICHARD H. DANA , 1787-18 ** . The Buccaneer ... CCCXI . - LORD BYRON , 1788-1824 . 1. The Prisoner ... 2. Battle of Pultowa 3. Battle of Talavera 4. Battle of Waterloo 5. Soul after Death 6. The Ocean ...
... Pleasure and Pain CCCX . - RICHARD H. DANA , 1787-18 ** . The Buccaneer ... CCCXI . - LORD BYRON , 1788-1824 . 1. The Prisoner ... 2. Battle of Pultowa 3. Battle of Talavera 4. Battle of Waterloo 5. Soul after Death 6. The Ocean ...
Страница xxvii
... pleasure or pain to the human mind . It comes home to the bosoms and businesses of men ; for nothing but what so comes home to them in the most general and intelligible shape can be a subject for poetry . He who has a contempt for ...
... pleasure or pain to the human mind . It comes home to the bosoms and businesses of men ; for nothing but what so comes home to them in the most general and intelligible shape can be a subject for poetry . He who has a contempt for ...
Страница xxxvii
... pleasure . Another quaint poet of this time is Francis Quarles ( 1592- 1644 ) . His poems are occasionally defaced by vulgarisms , and deformed by odd conceits , but his beauties abundantly NZ atone for his defects , the latter being ...
... pleasure . Another quaint poet of this time is Francis Quarles ( 1592- 1644 ) . His poems are occasionally defaced by vulgarisms , and deformed by odd conceits , but his beauties abundantly NZ atone for his defects , the latter being ...
Страница xliv
... Pleasures of the Imagination , a poem of which Dr. Johnson remarks , " It has undoubtedly a just claim to a very particular notice , as an example of great felicity of genius and uncommon ampli- tude of acquisitions , of a young mind ...
... Pleasures of the Imagination , a poem of which Dr. Johnson remarks , " It has undoubtedly a just claim to a very particular notice , as an example of great felicity of genius and uncommon ampli- tude of acquisitions , of a young mind ...
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beauty birds blest bliss blood blow bosom breast breath bright charms Chaucer Chevy Chase Crazy Jane cried dark dead dear death delight doth dread dream E'en earl Douglas earl Percy earth English poetry Eurydice eyes fair fear flowers frae GILES FLETCHER grace grave green grief hand happy hast hath head hear heart heaven honour hope hour Hudibras JOHN GOWER king light live look lord Lycidas lyre maid mind morn muse nature ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er pain peace pleasure poetry poets poor praise rill rise ROBERT SOUTHWELL rose round Saint Serf shade sigh sight sing skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spring stream sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thought tree trembling Twas vale voice wave weep wild wind wings youth
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Страница 135 - Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine; But cloud instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut off, and for the book of Knowledge fair Presented with a universal blank Of Nature's works, to me expunged and rased, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.
Страница 531 - Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning.
Страница 163 - GOING TO THE WARS Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
Страница 39 - This story shall the good man teach his son; And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered, — We few, we happy few, we band of brothers...
Страница 85 - Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Страница 50 - Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell. O, what a fall was there, my countrymen! Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us. O, now you weep, and I perceive you feel The dint of pity; these are gracious drops.
Страница 124 - Where the great Sun begins his state Robed in flames and amber light, The clouds in thousand liveries dight ; While the ploughman, near at hand, Whistles o'er the furrow'd land, And the milkmaid singeth blithe, And the mower whets his scythe, And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Страница 120 - Go, lovely Rose ! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That had'st thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired : Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die ! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee, —...
Страница 483 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery. By torch and trumpet fast arrayed, Each horseman drew his battle-blade ; And furious every charger neighed To join the dreadful revelry.
Страница 22 - Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten: In folly ripe, in reason rotten. Thy belt of straw and ivy buds, Thy coral clasps and amber studs, All these in me no means can move To come to thee, and be thy love.