The Principles of English Composition: Illustrated by Examples with Critical RemarksCochrane and Pickersgill, 1831 - 351 страници |
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Страница 310
... to burn incense at the shrine of power ; for Jove fix'd it certain , that whatever day Makes man a slave , takes half his worth away . " 311 CHAPTER XIX . HIGHER SPECIES OF POETRY - continued 310 OF THE HIGHER SPECIES OF POETRY .
... to burn incense at the shrine of power ; for Jove fix'd it certain , that whatever day Makes man a slave , takes half his worth away . " 311 CHAPTER XIX . HIGHER SPECIES OF POETRY - continued 310 OF THE HIGHER SPECIES OF POETRY .
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accented action Æneid Alliteration Amphibrach amusing ancient Anne hath Anne Hathaway auxiliary Ballad beautiful Cæsura called composed composition consonance couplet Dactyls death double Rhyme Drama Echo Elegies English Epic example expression fair feet figure flowers French Greek heart heaven Hemistichs hence Hudibras hyacinth Iambics imitated kind language Latin latter lines literally Lyric Lyric Poetry means melody metaphors Milton mind modern Muses nation nature ne'er never nymphs o'er object Pastoral Pastoral Poetry periphrasis Peter loves Mary phrases pleasure poem poet poetical Poetry preceding Prosopopoeia quatrains reader satirical scarcely Scotch seldom sentence Shakspeare shepherds short simple sing song Sonnet sound speak speaker species Spondees stanza Subjunctive Subjunctive Mood sung sweet syllables tale tears tender tense termed terminations thee Theocritus thou thought tion translation Trochee verb verse versification Virgil words writer written
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Страница 81 - Bagdad, in order to pass the rest of the day in meditation and prayer. As I was here airing myself on the tops of the mountains, I fell into a profound contemplation on the vanity of human life, and passing from one thought to another, 'Surely...
Страница 153 - ... unfinished. A quibble is the golden apple for which he will always turn aside from his career or stoop from his elevation. A quibble, poor and barren as it is, gave him such delight that he was content to purchase it by the sacrifice of reason, propriety, and truth. A quibble was to him the fatal Cleopatra for which he lost the world, and was content to lose it.
Страница 140 - Even now, methinks, as pondering here I stand, I see the rural Virtues leave the land. Down where yon anchoring vessel spreads the sail That idly waiting flaps with every gale, 400 Downward they move, a melancholy band, Pass from the shore, and darken all the strand. Contented Toil, and hospitable Care, And kind connubial Tenderness, are there ; And Piety with wishes placed above, And steady Loyalty, and faithful Love.
Страница 80 - COME, gentle Spring, ethereal mildness, come ; And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud, "While music wakes around, veil'd in a shower Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend.
Страница 4 - I may surely be contented without the praise of perfection, which, if I could obtain, in this gloom of solitude, what would it avail me? I have protracted my work till most of those whom I wished to please have sunk into the grave, and success and miscarriage are empty sounds: I therefore dismiss it with frigid tranquillity, having little to fear or hope from censure or from praise.
Страница 94 - And in thy right hand lead with thee The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty; And if I give thee honour due, Mirth, admit me of thy crew, To live with her and live with thee, In unreproved pleasures free...
Страница 269 - Paradise Lost is one of the books which the reader admires and lays down, and forgets to take up again. None ever wished it longer than it is. Its perusal is a duty rather than a pleasure. We read Milton for instruction, retire harassed and overburdened, and look elsewhere for recreation; we desert our master and seek for companions.
Страница 210 - The very head and front of my offending Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech, And little bless'd with the set phrase of peace ; For since these arms of mine had seven years...
Страница 209 - Is now the labour of my thoughts ; 'tis likeliest They had engaged their wandering steps too far ; And envious darkness, ere they could return, Had stole them from me : else, O thievish night, Why shouldst thou, but for some felonious end, In thy dark lantern thus close up the stars. That nature hung in heaven, and fill'd their lamps With everlasting oil, to give due light To the misled and lonely traveller?
Страница 256 - AT the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly To the lone vale we loved, when life shone warm in thine eye ; And I think oft, if spirits can steal from the regions of air To revisit past scenes of delight, thou wilt come to me there And tell me our love is remember'd.