English Poetry of the Nineteenth Century: A Connected Representation of Poetic Art and Thought from 1798 to 1914George Roy Elliott, Norman Foerster Macmillan, 1923 - 825 стор. |
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Сторінка vii
... past hundred years . By attending closely to the central drift of that movement , we have tried to win beyond those twin perils which have ever beset the collector of nineteenth century literature- on the one hand , a narrow wilfulness ...
... past hundred years . By attending closely to the central drift of that movement , we have tried to win beyond those twin perils which have ever beset the collector of nineteenth century literature- on the one hand , a narrow wilfulness ...
Сторінка xii
... Past Time To Night Sonnet : Political Greatness Mutability ( The flower that smiles ) Tomorrow A Lament Το Το Adonais • • ( Music when soft voices die ) ( One word is too often profaned ) Epipsychidion Choruses from Hellas : Life May ...
... Past Time To Night Sonnet : Political Greatness Mutability ( The flower that smiles ) Tomorrow A Lament Το Το Adonais • • ( Music when soft voices die ) ( One word is too often profaned ) Epipsychidion Choruses from Hellas : Life May ...
Сторінка xiii
... Past Ruined Ilion Your Pleasures Spring like Daisies . PAGE • 233 233 234 234 234 235 235 235 236 237 238 238 · 239 239 240 240 241 242 248 249 249 250 25IV 252 252 254 254 269 281 . 281 281 281 282 .. 282 283 • 285 285 285 286 286 286 ...
... Past Ruined Ilion Your Pleasures Spring like Daisies . PAGE • 233 233 234 234 234 235 235 235 236 237 238 238 · 239 239 240 240 241 242 248 249 249 250 25IV 252 252 254 254 269 281 . 281 281 281 282 .. 282 283 • 285 285 285 286 286 286 ...
Сторінка 8
... wild eyes these gleams Of past existence wilt thou then forget That on the banks of this delightful stream We stood together ; and that I , so long 150 A worshipper of Nature , hither came Unwearied in that 8 WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.
... wild eyes these gleams Of past existence wilt thou then forget That on the banks of this delightful stream We stood together ; and that I , so long 150 A worshipper of Nature , hither came Unwearied in that 8 WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.
Сторінка 22
... past . And grossly that man errs , who should suppose That the green valleys , and the streams and rocks , Were things indifferent to the shepherd's thoughts . Fields , where with cheerful spirits he had breathed 65 The common air ...
... past . And grossly that man errs , who should suppose That the green valleys , and the streams and rocks , Were things indifferent to the shepherd's thoughts . Fields , where with cheerful spirits he had breathed 65 The common air ...
Загальні терміни та фрази
Adonais art thou Artemidora beauty beneath breast breath bright Camelot cloud cold dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth Empedocles eternal eyes face fair fear feel flowers grief hand happy hast hath hear heard heart heaven hills hope hour human King King Arthur lady Lady of Shalott Lamia leave light lips live look mind moon morn mortal mother mountains nature never night nymph o'er once Oxus pain painted veil pale pass passion Pausanias poem poet Proem Prometheus Prometheus Unbound rose round Rustum Samian wine Saturn shadow silent Simoïs sing sleep smile song sonnet sorrow soul sound spake spirit stanza stars stood sweet tears Tennyson thee thine things thou art thought Tintern Abbey twas voice wandering waves weep wild wind wings words Wordsworth youth
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Сторінка 159 - Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin — his control Stops with the shore ; upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy...
Сторінка 61 - Thy soft response renewing— What makes that ship drive on so fast? What is the ocean doing?' Second Voice 'Still as a slave before his lord, The ocean hath no blast; His great bright eye most silently Up to the Moon is cast— If he may know which way to go; For she guides him smooth or grim. See, brother, see! how graciously She looketh down on him.
Сторінка 207 - I sighed for thee; When light rode high, and the dew was gone. And noon lay heavy on flower and tree, And the weary Day turned to his rest, Lingering like an unloved guest, I sighed for thee. Thy brother Death came, and cried, Wouldst thou me? Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed, Murmured like a noontide bee, Shall I nestle near thy side? Wouldst thou me? — And I replied, No, not thee!
Сторінка 238 - I behold, upon the night's starr'd face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I may never live to trace Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance; And when I feel, fair creature of an hour! , That I shall never look upon thee more, Never have relish in the faery power Of unreflecting love: — then on the shore Of the wide world I stand alone, and think Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.
Сторінка 320 - Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea ! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon...
Сторінка 90 - The bride kissed the goblet: the knight took it up, He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup. She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh, With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye. He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar, — "Now tread we a measure!
Сторінка 320 - ... the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O, hark, O, hear! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going! O, sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O love, they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or river; Our echoes roll from soul to soul,...
Сторінка 410 - And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst, How such a glance came there; so, not the first Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, 'twas not Her husband's presence only, called that spot Of joy into the Duchess' cheek: perhaps Fra Pandolf chanced to say "Her mantle laps "Over my Lady's wrist too much...
Сторінка 364 - There has fallen a splendid tear From the passion-flower at the gate. She is coming, my dove, my dear ; She is coming, my life, my fate ; The red rose cries, ' She is near, she is near ; ' And the white rose weeps, ' She is late;' The larkspur listens, ' I hear, I hear ;' And the lily whispers,
Сторінка 254 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft, And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.