Halleck's New English Literature

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American Book Company, 1913 - 647 стор.

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Quick read/reference chapbook of biographical, cultural and literary information on England, from 449 A.D. to the 20th century. Includes a map of England with the names of the writers it produced therein. (!) Читати огляд повністю

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Сторінка 335 - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden -flower grows wild; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year...
Сторінка 314 - midst its dreary dells, Whose walls more awful nod By thy religious gleams. Or if chill blustering winds, or driving rain, Prevent my willing feet, be mine the hut, That from the mountain's side, Views wilds, and swelling floods, And hamlets brown, and dim-discovered spires, And hears their simple bell, and marks o'er all Thy dewy fingers draw The gradual dusky veil.
Сторінка 198 - O ! wonder ! How many goodly creatures are there here ! How beauteous mankind is ! O brave new world, That has such people in't ! Pro.
Сторінка 335 - His house was known to all the vagrant train ; He chid their wanderings, but relieved their pain...
Сторінка 226 - But man is a noble animal, splendid in ashes, and pompous in the grave, solemnizing nativities and deaths with equal lustre, nor omitting ceremonies of bravery in the infamy of his nature.
Сторінка 62 - Her voice was ever soft, Gentle, and low, — an excellent thing in woman.
Сторінка 295 - In words, as fashions, the same rule will hold; Alike fantastic, if too new, or old: Be not the first by whom the new are tried, Nor yet the last to lay the old aside.
Сторінка 395 - 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.
Сторінка 412 - The Niobe of nations, — there she stands, Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe ; An empty urn within her withered hands, Whose holy dust was scattered long ago ; The Scipios...
Сторінка 565 - When the hounds of spring are on winter's traces, The mother of months in meadow or plain Fills the shadows and windy places With lisp of leaves and ripple of rain ; And the brown bright nightingale amorous Is half assuaged for Itylus, For the Thracian ships and the foreign faces, The tongueless vigil, and all the pain.

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