A First Book of English LiteratureMacmillan, 1914 - 283 страници |
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Страница 144 - When all is done, (he concludes,) human life is at the greatest and the best but like a froward child, that must be played with and humoured a little to keep it quiet, till it falls asleep, and then the care is over.
Страница 84 - He was the man who of all modern, and perhaps ancient poets, had the largest and most comprehensive soul. All the images of nature were still present to him, and he drew them not laboriously, but luckily : when he describes anything, you more than see it, you feel it too.
Страница 258 - The harmless Albatross. The Spirit who bideth by himself In the land of mist and snow, He loved the bird that loved the man Who shot him with his bow.
Страница 266 - To keep the lamp alive, With oil we fill the bowl ; 'Tis water makes the willow thrive, And grace that feeds the soul.
Страница 266 - I smiled, as cause of thought did rise. I saw the little boy, in thought, how oft that he Did wish of God to scape the rod...
Страница 157 - My banks they are furnished with bees, Whose murmur invites one to sleep ; My grottoes are shaded with trees, And my hills are white over with sheep. I seldom have met with a loss, Such health do my fountains bestow ; My fountains, all bordered with moss, Where the harebells and violets grow.
Страница 267 - They will feed their horse on the standing crop, their men on the garnered grain, The thatch of the byres will serve their fires when all the cattle are slain. But if thou thinkest the price be fair - thy brethren wait to sup, The hound is kin to the jackal-spawn - howl, dog, and call them up!
Страница 133 - To draw one beauty into our hearts' core, And keep it changeless! such our claim; So answered, — Never more! XIV. Simple? Why this is the old woe o' the world; Tune, to whose rise and fall we live and die. Rise with it, then! Rejoice that man is hurled From change to change unceasingly. His soul's wings never furled!
Страница 258 - A charboucle10 beside; And there he swore on ale and bread, How that the giant should be dead, Betide whatso betide.
Страница 70 - For as the precious stone Sandastra * hath nothing in outward appearance but that which seemeth black, but being broken poureth forth beams like the sun, so virtue showeth but bare to the outward eye, but being pierced with inward desire shineth like crystal. And this dare I avouch, that as the Troglodytae • which digged in the filthy ground for roots and found the inestimable stone Topason, which enriched them ever after, so he that seeketh after my youngest...