The English Poets, Том 4Thomas Humphry Ward Macmillan, 1893 |
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Сторінка viii
... Stanzas written in Dejection near Naples Ode to the West Wind Extracts from Prometheus Unbound : Semichorus I of Spirits • • 357 358 · • 374 · 375 378 Semichorus II PAGE 378 Voice in the air , singing viii CONTENTS .
... Stanzas written in Dejection near Naples Ode to the West Wind Extracts from Prometheus Unbound : Semichorus I of Spirits • • 357 358 · • 374 · 375 378 Semichorus II PAGE 378 Voice in the air , singing viii CONTENTS .
Сторінка ix
Thomas Humphry Ward. Semichorus II PAGE 378 Voice in the air , singing Hymn of Pan The Cloud To a Skylark Extract from Epipsychidion Adonais ; an Elegy on the Death of John Keats To Night Το • A Lament . Το • Last Chorus of Hellas Lines ...
Thomas Humphry Ward. Semichorus II PAGE 378 Voice in the air , singing Hymn of Pan The Cloud To a Skylark Extract from Epipsychidion Adonais ; an Elegy on the Death of John Keats To Night Το • A Lament . Το • Last Chorus of Hellas Lines ...
Сторінка 3
... voice proclaims How exquisitely the individual mind ( And the progres - ive powers perhaps no less Of the whole species ) to the external world Is fitted - and how exquisitely , too- Theme this but little heard of among men- The ...
... voice proclaims How exquisitely the individual mind ( And the progres - ive powers perhaps no less Of the whole species ) to the external world Is fitted - and how exquisitely , too- Theme this but little heard of among men- The ...
Сторінка 11
... voice and ear , an austere purity and plainness and nobleness marked all that he wrote , and formed a combination as distinct as it was uncommon . To purity , purity of feeling , pure truthfulness of WILLIAM WORDSWORTH .
... voice and ear , an austere purity and plainness and nobleness marked all that he wrote , and formed a combination as distinct as it was uncommon . To purity , purity of feeling , pure truthfulness of WILLIAM WORDSWORTH .
Сторінка 21
... voice I catch The language of my former heart , and read My former pleasures in the shooting lights Of thy wild eyes . Oh ! yet a little while May I behold in thee what I was once , My dear dear Sister ! and this prayer I make Knowing ...
... voice I catch The language of my former heart , and read My former pleasures in the shooting lights Of thy wild eyes . Oh ! yet a little while May I behold in thee what I was once , My dear dear Sister ! and this prayer I make Knowing ...
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Ancient Mariner Artemidora ballads beauty beneath bird blank verse breast breath bright Byron calm Charles Lamb Christabel cloud cold Coleridge dark dead dear death deep delight doth dream earth Ebenezer Elliott EDWARD DOWDEN Emily Brontë eyes fair Fanny Brawne fear feel flowers gaze gentle grace green hand happy Hartley Coleridge hast hath hear heard heart heaven Heigho hour JOHN KEATS Keats lady Leigh Hunt light live look Lyrical Ballads mind moon mortal mountains nature never night o'er once passion poems poet poetic poetry rain ROBERT SOUTHEY rose round Samian wine shade shadow Shelley sigh silent sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spirit stars stood stream sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought truth Twas verse voice WALTER LANDOR wandering waves weary well-a-day wild wind wings Wordsworth youth
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Сторінка 28 - SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love. A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye ! — Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me...
Сторінка 453 - As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu ! adieu ! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades : Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — do I wake or sleep?
Сторінка 324 - 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 459 - Homer ruled as his demesne : Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken ; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific — and all his men Looked at each other with a wild surmise: Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
Сторінка 53 - Stern Lawgiver ! yet thou dost wear The Godhead's most benignant grace ; Nor know we any thing so fair As is the smile upon thy face : Flowers laugh before thee on their beds And fragrance in thy footing treads ; Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong ; And the most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong.
Сторінка 41 - THE SOLITARY REAPER. Behold her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass ! Reaping and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass ! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain ; O listen ! for the Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound.
Сторінка 124 - O Lady ! we receive but what we give, And in our life alone does Nature live; Ours is her wedding-garment, ours her shroud ! And would we aught behold, of higher worth, Than that inanimate cold world allowed To the poor loveless ever-anxious crowd, Ah ! from the soul itself must issue forth A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud Enveloping the Earth — And from the soul itself must there be sent A sweet and potent voice, of its own birth, Of all sweet sounds the life and element!
Сторінка 457 - And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel ; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease ; For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells.
Сторінка 83 - EARTH has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air. Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill; Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will:...
Сторінка 59 - High instincts before which our mortal Nature Did tremble like a guilty Thing surprised : But for those first affections, Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master light of all our seeing ; Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence : truths that wake, To perish never...