Harper's Cyclopædia of British and American PoetryEpes Sargent Harper & Brothers, 1881 - 958 стор. |
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Сторінка i
... fame - must always be an elevating pursuit . There are some great truths for the expression of which the speculative understanding is less fitted than that which is the issue of right feelings and noble impulses . That poets have not ...
... fame - must always be an elevating pursuit . There are some great truths for the expression of which the speculative understanding is less fitted than that which is the issue of right feelings and noble impulses . That poets have not ...
Сторінка ii
... fame on the one little waif by which they have been made known . This class , and such anonymous writers as have produced pieces that the world does not allow to become obsolete , are largely repre- sented in the present volume ; and ...
... fame on the one little waif by which they have been made known . This class , and such anonymous writers as have produced pieces that the world does not allow to become obsolete , are largely repre- sented in the present volume ; and ...
Сторінка xxv
... Fame " 150 Ramsay , Allan . Lines on Addison ....... Conclusion of " The Dunciad " 151 151 The Clock and Dial Farewell to Lochaber ... Randall , James Ryder . Maryland .... Read , Thomas INDEX OF AUTHORS , WITH CONTENTS . XXV.
... Fame " 150 Ramsay , Allan . Lines on Addison ....... Conclusion of " The Dunciad " 151 151 The Clock and Dial Farewell to Lochaber ... Randall , James Ryder . Maryland .... Read , Thomas INDEX OF AUTHORS , WITH CONTENTS . XXV.
Сторінка xxvi
... Fame ... 539 Haste Not , Rest Not ( translated by C. C. Cox ) .. 737 Rogers , Samuel . The Old Ancestral Mansion 267 Scott , John . Hopes for Italy ... 268 Ode on Hearing the Drum ..... 205 Venice ..... 268 Roman Relics .. 268 Scott ...
... Fame ... 539 Haste Not , Rest Not ( translated by C. C. Cox ) .. 737 Rogers , Samuel . The Old Ancestral Mansion 267 Scott , John . Hopes for Italy ... 268 Ode on Hearing the Drum ..... 205 Venice ..... 268 Roman Relics .. 268 Scott ...
Сторінка 1
... Fame " ( richly paraphrased by Pope ) , etc. The accentuation in Chaucer's verse , by a license since abandoned , is different in many instances from that of common speech . For example , in " Full well she sangé the service divine ...
... Fame " ( richly paraphrased by Pope ) , etc. The accentuation in Chaucer's verse , by a license since abandoned , is different in many instances from that of common speech . For example , in " Full well she sangé the service divine ...
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Harper's Cyclopaedia of British and American Poetry (Classic Reprint) Epes Sargent Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2018 |
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beauty Ben Jonson beneath Binnorie birds blessed bonny born breast breath bright brow busk Charles Lamb charms Chevy Chase clouds dark dead dear death deep delight divine doth dream earth eternal eyes fair fame father fear flowers frae glory grace green grief Grongar Hill hame hand happy hast hath Hazelgreen hear heart heaven heir of Linne hope hour immortal king kiss land lassie leave light live look Lord Lycidas mind morning mortal native Nature's ne'er never night numbers Nut-brown Maide o'er pain pleasure poem poet praise Robin Hood rose round Scotland shade shine sigh sing Sir Patrick Spens sleep smile song sonnets sorrow soul sound spirit stars Stutly sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thought Twas verse voice waves weep wild wind wings wrote Yarrow young youth
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 99 - WHEN I consider how my light is spent, Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest he returning chide, ' Doth God exact day-labor, light denied ?
Сторінка 413 - 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.
Сторінка 664 - art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore: Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!
Сторінка 664 - Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning — little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door — Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as
Сторінка 183 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Сторінка 290 - Nor Man nor Boy, Nor all that is at enmity with joy, Can utterly abolish or destroy ! Hence in a season of calm weather Though inland far we be, Our souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither, Can in a moment travel thither, And see the Children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.
Сторінка 310 - And now the storm-blast came, and he Was tyrannous and strong: He struck with his o'ertaking wings, And chased us south along. With sloping masts and dipping prow, As who pursued with yell and blow Still treads the shadow of his foe, And forward bends his head, The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, And southward aye we fled.
Сторінка 414 - Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him — But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him.
Сторінка 653 - And burst the cannon's roar; — The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more. Her deck, once red with heroes' blood, Where knelt the vanquished foe, When winds were hurrying o'er the flood, And waves were white below, No more shall feel the victor's tread, Or know the conquered knee; — The harpies of the shore shall pluck The eagle of the sea!
Сторінка 663 - Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow— sorrow for the lost Lenore, For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore: Nameless here for evermore.