English Poetry from Blake to BrowningMethuen, 1896 - Всего страниц: 204 |
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action admirable ANTHONY HOPE artist Author Ballads BARING GOULD beauty born Buckram Burns Byron century character classic Coleridge College colour Cowper criticism Crown 8vo delight Demy 8vo died divine dramatic E. F. BENSON EMILY LAWLESS emotion English poetry epic faith feeling Gazette genius GILBERT PARKER Greek H. C. BEECHING heart human humour ideal ideas Illustrated imagination inspired intellectual interest J. A. HOBSON JOHN KEBLE Keats Landor's language literature living lyric lyric poetry MARIE CORELLI master Matthew Arnold melody Milton mind moods Moore moral Nature never noble novel passion perfect philosophy pleasure poems poet poet's poetic Pope prose race reader romance Scott Second Edition sense Shakespere Shelley Shelley's social song Sophocles soul Southey speak Spenser sphere spirit story style subjects Tennyson things thought tion true truth universal verse volume W. E. HENLEY words Wordsworth writing
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Стр. 97 - The floating Clouds their state shall lend To her; for her the willow bend; Nor shall she fail to see Even in the motions of the Storm Grace that shall mould the Maiden's form By silent sympathy.
Стр. 112 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet...
Стр. 79 - ... a semblance of truth sufficient to procure for these shadows of imagination that willing suspension of disbelief for the moment, which constitutes poetic faith. Mr. Wordsworth, on the other hand, was to propose to himself as his object, to give the charm of novelty to things of every day...
Стр. 63 - Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay, The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, The morn the marshalling in arms — the day Battle's magnificently stern array...
Стр. 196 - Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something new : That which they have done but earnest of the things that they shall do...
Стр. 176 - Front, flank, and rear, the squadrons sweep To break the Scottish circle deep That fought around their king. But yet, though thick the shafts as snow, Though charging knights like whirlwinds go, Though billmen ply the ghastly blow, Unbroken was the ring ; The stubborn spearmen still made good Their dark impenetrable wood, Each stepping where his comrade stood The instant that he fell.
Стр. 82 - It ceased; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.
Стр. 67 - I see before me the gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand ; his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his drooped head sinks gradually low ; And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower ; and now The arena swims around him ; he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won.
Стр. 102 - Armour rusting in his halls On the blood of Clifford calls ;— ' Quell the Scot,' exclaims the Lance— Bear me to the heart of France, Is the longing of the Shield—• Tell thy name, thou trembling Field; Field of death, where'er thou be, Groan thou with our victory ! Happy day, and mighty hour...
Стр. 81 - In his loneliness and fixedness he yearneth towards the journeying Moon, and the stars that still sojourn, yet still move onward; and every where the blue sky belongs to them, and is their appointed rest, and their native country and their own natural homes, which they enter unannounced, as lords that are certainly expected; and yet there is a silent joy at their arrival.