English Literature: From the age of Johnson to the age of Tennyson, by Edmund GosseGrosset & Dunlap, 1904 |
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admirable Anthony Trollope appeared beauty became began born Brontë Browning Burke Burns Byron called Carlyle Charles Charles Lamb Charles Reade Charlotte Charlotte Brontë College Crabbe critical D. G. Rossetti Darwin daughter death Dickens died early Edinburgh England English essays eyes father friends Froude G. F. Watts Gaskell genius George George Eliot haue heart Jane Jane Austen John John Ruskin Keats Lady Lamb Letter literary literature lived London Lord Macaulay married Matthew Arnold nature never Newman novel Oxford passion Photo poem poet poetry popular Portrait prose published Robert Robert Browning romance Rossetti Ruskin S. T. Coleridge settled Shelley Sir Walter Scott sister song soul Southey spirit style success Tennyson Thackeray thee Thomas thou thought tion took verse volume Walter Scott wife William Wordsworth write wrote þat þei
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Сторінка 55 - But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! A savage place! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
Сторінка 49 - What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower...
Сторінка 136 - And saw, within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold: Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the Presence in the room he said, "What writest thou?" — The vision raised its head, And, with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord.
Сторінка 362 - Under the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. This be the verse you grave for me : Here he lies where he longed to be ; Home is the sailor, home from the sea, And the hunter home from the hill.
Сторінка 132 - Star-inwrought! Blind with thine hair the eyes of Day; Kiss her until she be wearied out, Then wander o'er city, and sea, and land, Touching all with thine opiate wand— Come, long-sought!
Сторінка 220 - ... years, Who each one in a gracious hand appears To bear a gift for mortals, old or young: And, as I mused it in his antique tongue, I saw, in gradual vision through my tears, The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years, Those of my own life, who by turns had flung A shadow across me. Straightway I was 'ware, So weeping, how a mystic Shape did move Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair: And a voice said in mastery, while I strove, — 'Guess now who holds thee?' — 'Death,' I said. But, there,...
Сторінка 29 - John Anderson my jo. John Anderson my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither ; And mony a canty day, John, We've had wi' ane anither : Now we maun totter down, John, But hand in hand we'll go, And sleep thegither at the foot, John Anderson my jo.
Сторінка 145 - O Attic shape ! Fair attitude ! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed ; Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity : Cold Pastoral ! When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shall remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, " Beauty is truth, truth beauty," — that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
Сторінка 136 - ABOU BEN ADHEM (may his tribe increase!) Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And saw within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold: Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said, "What writest thou?" The vision raised its head, And, with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord.
Сторінка 48 - tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. The birds around me hopped and played, Their thoughts I cannot measure : — But the least motion which they made, It seemed a thrill of pleasure. The budding twigs spread out their fan, To catch the breezy air; And I must think, do all I can, That there was pleasure there.