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accent and emphasis accented syllables added syllable Alexandrine alliteration Amphibrach Amphimacer anacrusis Anapaestic beginning blank verse Byron caesural pause called chant royal chapter Chaucer Coleridge comic consonants couplet dactylic hexameter dimeter dreams English verse envoy expression extra syllables feet foot form of verse fourth give heart iambic pentameter Iambic trimeter iambus imitation language last line Latin length light Longfellow lyric marked Marlowe measure metre Milton monometer movement naturally night number of syllables o'er occur onomatopoeia poem poet poetry Professor Gosse prose prosody pyrrhic quantity rhyme order rhythm and metre rhythmic effect rondeau rose seen sentiment sestina Shakespeare short Slurring sometimes song sound speech spondee stanza stress Surrey sweet Swinburne Tennyson thee third line thou tion tone-color trimeter Trochaic tetrameter trochee unaccented syllables unit of rhythm usually variety Villanelle vine-god sing vowel W. E. Henley words
Стр. 42 - Heaven lies about us in our infancy. Shades of the prison-house begin to close Upon the growing boy; But he beholds the light and whence it flows, He sees it in his joy. The youth who daily farther from the East Must travel, still is Nature's priest, And, by the vision splendid, Is on his way attended. At length the man perceives it die away And fade into the light of common day.
Стр. 41 - It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration; the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity; The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the Sea: Listen! the mighty Being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thunder— everlastingly.
Стр. 40 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste...
Стр. 67 - COURAGE!' he said, and pointed toward the land, 'This mounting wave will roll us shoreward soon.' In the afternoon they came unto a land In which it seemed always afternoon. All round the coast the languid air did swoon, Breathing like one that hath a weary dream.
Стр. 22 - LONDON SNOW WHEN men were all asleep the snow came flying, In large white flakes falling on the city brown, Stealthily and perpetually settling and loosely lying, Hushing the latest traffic of the drowsy town; Deadening, muffling, stifling its murmurs failing; Lazily and incessantly floating down and down: Silently sifting and veiling road, roof and railing; Hiding difference, making unevenness even, Into angles and crevices softly drifting and sailing.
Стр. 37 - TEARS, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more. Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge ; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
Стр. 73 - Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently ! Around thee and above Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass: methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge ! But when I look again, It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, Thy habitation from eternity ! 0 dread and silent Mount ! I gazed upon thee, Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, Didst vanish from my thought: entranced in prayer 1 worshipped the Invisible alone.
Стр. 97 - Had fed the feeling of their masters' light; thoughts, And every sweetness that inspired their hearts, Their minds, and muses on admired themes ; If all the heavenly quintessence they still From their immortal flowers of poesy, Wherein, as in a mirror, we perceive The highest reaches of a human wit; If these had made one poem's period...
Стр. 59 - Tis not enough no harshness gives offence, The sound must seem an echo to the sense. Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows ; But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar. When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, The line too labors, and the words move slow. Not so when swift Camilla scours the plain, Flies o'er the unbending corn, and skims along the main. Hear how Timotheus...