British Classical Authors. Select Specimens of the National Literature of England and America, with Biographical Sketches and an Historical Outline of English Literature. Poetry and ProseGeorge Westermann, 1885 |
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Сторінка xxxix
... side ) gives in the manner of the ancients , are specimens of the richest comedy . In his Adventures of Count Fathom we have the career of a rogue and swindler , who , after experiencing many vicissitudes of fortune , becomes a penitent ...
... side ) gives in the manner of the ancients , are specimens of the richest comedy . In his Adventures of Count Fathom we have the career of a rogue and swindler , who , after experiencing many vicissitudes of fortune , becomes a penitent ...
Сторінка liii
... side , he made a bull , but at the same time expressed his conviction , better than if he had talked a whole hour , that the duties were to be all on the side of Ireland , while England reaped all the MODERN ENGLISH LITERATURE . mad ...
... side , he made a bull , but at the same time expressed his conviction , better than if he had talked a whole hour , that the duties were to be all on the side of Ireland , while England reaped all the MODERN ENGLISH LITERATURE . mad ...
Сторінка 5
... side , Far from resort of people that did pas 300 In traveil to and froe : a little wyde There was an holy chapell edifyde , ( 4 ) Wherein the hermite dewly ( 5 ) wont to say His holy things each morne and eventyde ; Thereby a christall ...
... side , Far from resort of people that did pas 300 In traveil to and froe : a little wyde There was an holy chapell edifyde , ( 4 ) Wherein the hermite dewly ( 5 ) wont to say His holy things each morne and eventyde ; Thereby a christall ...
Сторінка 26
... side . 530 purpose dost thou hoard thy words , That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends ? Mar. My lord , As far as land will let Gaunt . O , to what Boling . I have too few to take my leave of you , When the tongue's office should ...
... side . 530 purpose dost thou hoard thy words , That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends ? Mar. My lord , As far as land will let Gaunt . O , to what Boling . I have too few to take my leave of you , When the tongue's office should ...
Сторінка 33
... side.- Plashy , to my sister Gloster ; presently a thousand pound : Bid her send me Hold , take my ring . Serv . My lord , I had forgot to tell your lordship : 1045 To - day , as I came by , I called there ; - But I shall grieve you to ...
... side.- Plashy , to my sister Gloster ; presently a thousand pound : Bid her send me Hold , take my ring . Serv . My lord , I had forgot to tell your lordship : 1045 To - day , as I came by , I called there ; - But I shall grieve you to ...
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Загальні терміни та фрази
appeared arms Ben Jonson blood Boling Bolingbroke breath called Calmar captain Charles Chaucer cried dark daughter dear death doth duke duke of Hereford earl earth England English eyes fair father Faulkl Faulkland fear fire gentleman Ghost give hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven Hengo honour hope Jack Pickersgill Jacob Marley king lady land light live look Lord Malaprop ment mind Monmouth morning nature never night noble Northumberland o'er once Ossulton Pickersgill pleasure poem poet poor prince Queen replied Rich Rienzi round Scotland Scrooge Shakespeare Sir Lucius sleep soon soul spirit stood sweet sword tears tell thee thing thou thought Tiny Tim tion Twas uncle uncle Toby voice wild wind words young Zounds
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Сторінка 273 - Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply: And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die. For who, to dumb Forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er...
Сторінка 600 - Tis of the wave and not the rock; 'Tis but the flapping of the sail, And not a rent made by the gale ! In spite of rock and tempest's roar, In spite of false lights on the shore. Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea! Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee.
Сторінка 381 - All the earth and air With thy voice is loud, As, when night is bare, From one lonely cloud The moon rains out her beams, and Heaven is overflowed.
Сторінка 273 - E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, 'Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn...
Сторінка 277 - Sweet smiling village, loveliest of the lawn, Thy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn ; Amidst thy bowers the tyrant's hand is seen, /And desolation saddens all thy green : One only master grasps the whole domain, , And half a tillage stints thy smiling plain...
Сторінка 54 - tis his will : Let but the commons hear this testament, (Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read) And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds, And dip their napkins in his sacred blood ; Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy, Unto their issue.
Сторінка 54 - Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And, sure, he is an honourable man. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, But here I am to speak what I do know. You all did love him once, not without cause; What cause withholds you then to mourn for him ? O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason! — Bear with me; My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar, And I must pause, till it come back to me.
Сторінка 380 - And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride; And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as the spray of the rock/beating surf. And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail; And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
Сторінка 411 - Awake, my soul ! not only passive praise Thou owest ! not alone these swelling tears, Mute thanks and secret ecstasy ! Awake, Voice of sweet song ! Awake, my Heart, awake ! Green vales and icy cliffs, all join my Hymn.
Сторінка 600 - Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart — Go forth, under the open sky, and list To nature's teachings, while from all around — Earth and her waters, and the depths of air — Comes a still voice...