Familiar Talks on English Literature: A Manual Embracing the Great Epochs of English Literature, from the English Conquest of Britain, 449, to the Death of Walter Scott, 1832Jansen, McClurg, 1884 - 454 стор. |
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Сторінка 24
... thou art fair . Thou hast dove's eyes within thy locks , Thy hair is like a flock of goats That appear from Mt. Gilead ; If Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet , 24 FAMILIAR TALKS.
... thou art fair . Thou hast dove's eyes within thy locks , Thy hair is like a flock of goats That appear from Mt. Gilead ; If Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet , 24 FAMILIAR TALKS.
Сторінка 32
... thou knowest I cannot sing . " Then the voice replied , " However you shall sing . ” " What shall I sing ? " asked Cadmon , meekly . " Sing thou the beginning of created things . " And on this he began to praise God in verse and to ...
... thou knowest I cannot sing . " Then the voice replied , " However you shall sing . ” " What shall I sing ? " asked Cadmon , meekly . " Sing thou the beginning of created things . " And on this he began to praise God in verse and to ...
Сторінка 49
... thou think of this , Gurth , ha ? " " It is but too true , Wamba , however it got into thy fool's pate . " " Nay , I can tell you more , " continued Wamba , " there is old alderman Ox continues to hold his Saxon epithet while he is ...
... thou think of this , Gurth , ha ? " " It is but too true , Wamba , however it got into thy fool's pate . " " Nay , I can tell you more , " continued Wamba , " there is old alderman Ox continues to hold his Saxon epithet while he is ...
Сторінка 51
... thou settest no store , And that I wonder to find ; How oft ' send I my men before , And tarry myself behind . " It ... thou bearest in thy hand , A good archer thou shouldst be . " " I am wandering from my way , " quoth the yeoman ...
... thou settest no store , And that I wonder to find ; How oft ' send I my men before , And tarry myself behind . " It ... thou bearest in thy hand , A good archer thou shouldst be . " " I am wandering from my way , " quoth the yeoman ...
Сторінка 52
... thou lusty yoeman , And Robin thou soon shall see . But first , let us some pastime find , Under the greenwood tree . " " First let us make a trial of skill , Among the woods so even . We may chance to meet with Robin Hood , Here at ...
... thou lusty yoeman , And Robin thou soon shall see . But first , let us some pastime find , Under the greenwood tree . " " First let us make a trial of skill , Among the woods so even . We may chance to meet with Robin Hood , Here at ...
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Familiar Talks on English Literature; a Manual Embracing the Great Epochs of ... Abby Sage 1837-1900 Richardson Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2016 |
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Amy Robsart ballad beautiful began Ben Jonson Beowulf Born breath called century characters Charles Charles II charm Chaucer comedies Comus Cowley dear death delight Died doth dramatic Dryden England English English poetry essays eyes fair fancy flowers friends genius give hand hath heart heaven Hudibras John John Bunyan Jonson King lady light literature live London looked Lord manner Milton mind nature never night noble novel o'er Paradise Lost Piers Ploughman Pilgrim's Progress plays pleasure poem poet poetry poor Pope Prince Prince John prose Puritans Queen reign rhyme Samuel Pepys satire says Scriblerus Club seems Shakspeare Shakspeare's Shelley Silent Woman sing songs soul spirit story style sweet TALK Tamburlaine taste tears tell thee things thou thought took verse words Wordsworth write written wrote young
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 148 - This fortress, built by nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war ; This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall, Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands ; This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England...
Сторінка 206 - Yet not the more Cease I to wander where the Muses haunt Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill, Smit with the love of sacred song...
Сторінка 199 - Where the great sun begins his state, Robed in flames, and amber light, The clouds in thousand liveries dight; While the ploughman near at hand Whistles o'er the furrowed land, And the milkmaid singeth blithe, And the mower whets his scythe, And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Сторінка 339 - Heaven lies about us in our infancy. Shades of the prison-house begin to close Upon the growing boy; But he beholds the light and whence it flows, He sees it in his joy. The youth who daily farther from the East Must travel, still is Nature's priest, And, by the vision splendid, Is on his way attended. At length the man perceives it die away And fade into the light of common day.
Сторінка 217 - Now strike the golden lyre again: A louder yet, and yet a louder strain ! Break his bands of sleep asunder And rouse him like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark, hark ! the horrid sound Has raised up his head : As awaked from the dead, And amazed he stares around. Revenge, revenge...
Сторінка 339 - 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...
Сторінка 188 - Go, lovely Rose! Tell her, that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died.
Сторінка 338 - Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men. Oh! raise us up, return to us again; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Сторінка 201 - And ever, against eating cares, Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse, Such as the meeting soul may pierce, In notes with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out With wanton heed and giddy cunning, The melting voice through mazes running, Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony; That Orpheus...
Сторінка 362 - And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal; And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!