Poet's Walk: An Introduction to English PoetryMacmillan and Company, Limited, 1898 - 343 oldal |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 36 találatból.
11. oldal
... dead ; All thy friends are lapped in lead ; All thy fellow birds do sing , Careless of thy sorrowing . Even so , poor bird , like thee , None alive will pity me . Whilst as fickle Fortune smiled , Thou and I were both beguiled . Every ...
... dead ; All thy friends are lapped in lead ; All thy fellow birds do sing , Careless of thy sorrowing . Even so , poor bird , like thee , None alive will pity me . Whilst as fickle Fortune smiled , Thou and I were both beguiled . Every ...
21. oldal
... dead , dead ere his prime , Young Lycidas , and hath not left his peer . Who would not sing for Lycidas ? He knew Himself to sing , and build the lofty rhyme . He must not float upon his watery bier Unwept , and welter to the parching ...
... dead , dead ere his prime , Young Lycidas , and hath not left his peer . Who would not sing for Lycidas ? He knew Himself to sing , and build the lofty rhyme . He must not float upon his watery bier Unwept , and welter to the parching ...
24. oldal
... more , For Lycidas , your sorrow , is not dead , Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor : So sinks the day - star in the ocean bed , And yet anon repairs his drooping head And tricks his beams , and with new - spangled 24 Poet's Walk.
... more , For Lycidas , your sorrow , is not dead , Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor : So sinks the day - star in the ocean bed , And yet anon repairs his drooping head And tricks his beams , and with new - spangled 24 Poet's Walk.
37. oldal
... dead horses Full savourly they eat , And drank the puddle water— They could no better get . When they had fed so freely , They kneeled on the ground , And praised God devoutly For the favour they had found ; And , beating up their ...
... dead horses Full savourly they eat , And drank the puddle water— They could no better get . When they had fed so freely , They kneeled on the ground , And praised God devoutly For the favour they had found ; And , beating up their ...
40. oldal
... dead , To life again , to hear thy buskin tread And shake a stage or when thy socks were on , Leave thee alone for the comparison Of all that insolent Greece or haughty Rome Sent forth , or since did from their ashes come , Triumph , my ...
... dead , To life again , to hear thy buskin tread And shake a stage or when thy socks were on , Leave thee alone for the comparison Of all that insolent Greece or haughty Rome Sent forth , or since did from their ashes come , Triumph , my ...
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Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Poet's Walk: An Introduction to English Poetry (Classic Reprint) Mowbray Morris Nincs elérhető előnézet - 2015 |
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Avès battle beneath blow Bonny Dundee brave breast breath bright Charles Kingsley Childe Harold's Pilgrimage cloud crown dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth echoes England English eyes fair fame fear flowers forest fought gallant glory golden grave green hand happy Hark hast hath head hear heard heart Heaven Henry Wadsworth Longfellow hill honour horse hour John Keats King ladies land leaves light live Lochiel look Lord Byron loud Matthew Arnold merry mighty morn mountain mournful ne'er never night o'er Percy Bysshe Shelley poem praise proud roar rose round Samian wine shine shore sing Sir Walter Scott sleep smile soft song Song of Hiawatha sorrow soul sound spirit stars steed streams sweet sword tears thee thine thunder tower voice waves weep wild William Shakespeare William Wordsworth winds wings
Népszerű szakaszok
165. oldal - 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 Look'd at each other with a wild surmise — Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
207. oldal - THOU still unravish'd bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape Of deities or mortals, or of both, In Tempe or the dales of Arcady ? What men or gods are these? What maidens loth? What mad pursuit ? ? What struggle to escape ? What pipes and timbrels ? What wild ecstasy...
59. oldal - A merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the parson's saw...
87. oldal - At church, with meek and unaffected grace, His looks adorned the venerable place; Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway, And fools, who came to scoff, remained to pray. The service past, around the pious man, With steady zeal, each honest rustic ran; Even children followed with endearing wile, And plucked his gown, to share the good man's smile. His ready smile a parent's warmth expressed, Their welfare pleased him and their cares distressed; To them his heart, his love, his griefs were...
89. oldal - Th' applause of listening senates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to despise, To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, And read their history in a nation's eyes Their lot forbade ; nor circumscribed alone Their growing virtues, but their crimes confined; Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind...
207. oldal - Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone : Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare ; Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, Though winning near the goal — yet, do not grieve ; She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair...
47. oldal - 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.
260. oldal - OH, to be in England now that April's there, And whoever wakes in England sees, some morning, unaware, That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough In England — now!
30. oldal - TELL ME NOT, sweet, I am unkind, That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honor more.
22. oldal - Lycidas? For neither were ye playing on the steep Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie, Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high, Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard stream. Ay me! I fondly dream " Had ye been there," . . . for what could that have done ? What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore, The Muse herself, for her enchanting son, Whom universal nature did lament, When, by the rout that made the hideous roar, His gory visage down the stream was sent, Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian...