English Prose and Poetry (1137-1892).Ginn, 1916 - 792 стор. |
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Сторінка 37
... speak happening ob- serves courteously greeted him afraid deed 35 house 36 I am called You may be certain by this bough that I bear. ΧΙ Ther wacz1lokyng on lenthe , 2 the lude 3 to beholde , For uch mon had mervayle quat 5 hit mene myght ...
... speak happening ob- serves courteously greeted him afraid deed 35 house 36 I am called You may be certain by this bough that I bear. ΧΙ Ther wacz1lokyng on lenthe , 2 the lude 3 to beholde , For uch mon had mervayle quat 5 hit mene myght ...
Сторінка 41
... speak 32 judge 33 without 34 the great ones 35 5 did whisper 36 and afterwards they decided unanimously 37 to set aside the crowned king Then comaunded the kyng the knyght for to " Let. hym to drynk Of wyne . Gawan , that sate bi the ...
... speak 32 judge 33 without 34 the great ones 35 5 did whisper 36 and afterwards they decided unanimously 37 to set aside the crowned king Then comaunded the kyng the knyght for to " Let. hym to drynk Of wyne . Gawan , that sate bi the ...
Сторінка 50
... speak : " That tower may enter no earthly wight ; But of the Lamb did I favour seek That hou from afar shouldst see its light ; From without that cloister see aright Thou mayest indeed ; but within , step not ; 12 τα 2 walk in the ...
... speak : " That tower may enter no earthly wight ; But of the Lamb did I favour seek That hou from afar shouldst see its light ; From without that cloister see aright Thou mayest indeed ; but within , step not ; 12 τα 2 walk in the ...
Сторінка 71
... speak French from the time that they are rocked in their cradles and can talk and play with a baby's brooch ; and countrymen wish to be like gentlemen and attempt with great effort to speak French , in order to be highly regarded ...
... speak French from the time that they are rocked in their cradles and can talk and play with a baby's brooch ; and countrymen wish to be like gentlemen and attempt with great effort to speak French , in order to be highly regarded ...
Сторінка 98
... Speak without word , such words as none can tell ; The tress also should be of crispéd gold . With wit and these perchance I might be tried , And knit again with knot that should not slide . OF THE MEAN AND SURE ESTATE WRITTEN TO JOHN ...
... Speak without word , such words as none can tell ; The tress also should be of crispéd gold . With wit and these perchance I might be tried , And knit again with knot that should not slide . OF THE MEAN AND SURE ESTATE WRITTEN TO JOHN ...
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Æsop atheism Battle of Otterburn beauty breath called CAPTAIN CAR Corydon dark dead dear death delight doth dream earth English eyes face fair fear flowers forto Gawain hand happy hast hath hear heard heart Heaven Hind Horn honour human king King Arthur kyng lady Lady of Shalott leave light live look Lord man's mind Mother nature never night nymph o'er once Oxus pain pass passion play pleasure poem poet praise quoth rest rose round Rustum sayd sche sigh sing sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spirit stars stood sweet Tabary tears tell thee ther thine things thou art thought tion truth Twas unto voice weep wild wind wolde words wyfe wyll young youth ΙΟ
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 210 - I know they are as lively, and as vigorously productive, as those fabulous dragon's teeth ; and being sown up and down, may chance to spring up armed men. And yet, on the other hand, unless wariness be used, as good almost kill a man as kill a good book. Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image ; but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were in the eye.
Сторінка 450 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, •To mingle with the Universe, and feel What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean— roll!
Сторінка 551 - ... rim. Then I cast loose my buffcoat, each holster let fall, Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all, Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear, Called my Roland his pet-name, my horse without peer ; Clapped my hands, laughed and sang, any noise, bad or good, Till at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood. And all I remember is, friends flocking round As I sat with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground; And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine, As I poured down his...
Сторінка 473 - That light whose smile kindles the universe, That beauty in which all things work and move, That benediction which the eclipsing curse Of birth can quench not, that sustaining Love Which, through the web of being blindly wove By man and beast and earth and air and sea, Burns bright or dim, as each are mirrors of The fire for which all thirst, now beams on me, Consuming the last clouds of cold mortality.
Сторінка 652 - Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land; When you can no more hold me by the hand, Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay. Remember me when no more, day by day, You tell me of our future that you planned: Only remember me; you understand It will be late to counsel then or pray. Yet if you should forget me for a while And afterwards remember, do not grieve: For if the darkness and corruption leave A vestige of the thoughts that once I had, Better by far you should forget...
Сторінка 552 - And after April, when May follows, And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows ! Hark, where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge Leans to the field and scatters on the clover Blossoms and dewdrops — at the bent spray's edge — That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, Lest you should think he never could recapture...
Сторінка 431 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave : Where Blake...
Сторінка 449 - Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are our woes and sufferance ? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples, ye Whose agonies are evils of a day ! — A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay.
Сторінка 151 - Doth any man doubt, that if there were taken out of men's minds vain opinions, flattering hopes, false valuations, imaginations as one would, and the like, but it would leave the minds of a number of men poor shrunken things, full of melancholy and indisposition, and unpleasing to themselves?
Сторінка 179 - Love took my hand, and smiling did reply, Who made the eyes but I ? Truth, Lord, but I have marred them : let my shame Go where it doth deserve.