The Leading English Poets from Chaucer to BrowningHoughton Mifflin, 1915 - Всего страниц: 918 |
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Стр. 1
... hath hate , and climbing tikel- nesse , Prees hath envye , and wele blent overal ; Savour no more than thee bihove shal ; Werk wel thy - self , that other folk canst rede ; And trouthe shal delivere , hit is no drede . Tempest thee ...
... hath hate , and climbing tikel- nesse , Prees hath envye , and wele blent overal ; Savour no more than thee bihove shal ; Werk wel thy - self , that other folk canst rede ; And trouthe shal delivere , hit is no drede . Tempest thee ...
Стр. 2
... hath perced to the rote , And bathed every veyne in swich licour , Of which vertu engendred is the flour ; Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth Inspired hath in every holt and heeth The tendre croppes , and the yonge sonne Hath in ...
... hath perced to the rote , And bathed every veyne in swich licour , Of which vertu engendred is the flour ; Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth Inspired hath in every holt and heeth The tendre croppes , and the yonge sonne Hath in ...
Стр. 12
... hath his herte perced so Of Cristes moder , that , to hir to preye , He can nat stinte of singing by the weye . 100 Our firste fo , the serpent Sathanas , That hath in Lewes herte his waspes nest , Up swal , and seide , ' o Hebraik ...
... hath his herte perced so Of Cristes moder , that , to hir to preye , He can nat stinte of singing by the weye . 100 Our firste fo , the serpent Sathanas , That hath in Lewes herte his waspes nest , Up swal , and seide , ' o Hebraik ...
Стр. 14
... hath attamed , And thus he seyde un - to us everichon , This swete preest , this goodly man , sir Iohn . Explicit Here Biginneth the Nonne Preestes Tale of the Cok and Hen , Chaunte- cleer and Pertelote A POVRE widwe , somdel stape in ...
... hath attamed , And thus he seyde un - to us everichon , This swete preest , this goodly man , sir Iohn . Explicit Here Biginneth the Nonne Preestes Tale of the Cok and Hen , Chaunte- cleer and Pertelote A POVRE widwe , somdel stape in ...
Стр. 17
... hath he told Of any dreem , so holy was his herte . By god , I hadde lever than my sherte That ye had rad his legende , as have I. Dame Pertelote , I sey yow trewely , Macrobeus , that writ the avisioun In Affrike of the worthy Cipioun ...
... hath he told Of any dreem , so holy was his herte . By god , I hadde lever than my sherte That ye had rad his legende , as have I. Dame Pertelote , I sey yow trewely , Macrobeus , that writ the avisioun In Affrike of the worthy Cipioun ...
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The Leading English Poets from Chaucer to Browning: Edited, with ... Lucius Hudson Holt Недоступно для просмотра - 2017 |
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
Archimago arms beauty beneath blood breast breath bright brow Camelot cloud courser Dæmons dark dead dear death deep doth dread dream earth Elfin knight eyes face fair fear fire flowers Gareth Gawain gaze gentle glory grace grone Guinevere hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hill holy hope hour King King Arthur lady Lady of Shalott Lancelot Lavaine leave light live look lord maid mighty mind mordre morning never night nymph o'er once Oxus pain pass Publ Queen rest rose round Rustum Samian wine seem'd sing Sir Lancelot sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spake spirit star stept stood stream sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought thro trew unto voice wave weene wild wind wings words wyde youth Zuleika
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Стр. 118 - That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
Стр. 333 - MILTON ! thou should'st be living at this hour : England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters : altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Стр. 580 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, — While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue ; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies ; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing ; and now with treble soft The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft; And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
Стр. 567 - 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 shalt 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.
Стр. 534 - It struggles and howls at fits; Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion, This pilot is guiding me, Lured by the love of the genii that move In the depths of the purple sea; Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills, Over the lakes and the plains, Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream...
Стр. 306 - My dear, dear Friend; and in thy voice I catch The language of my former heart, and read My former pleasures in the shooting lights Of thy wild eyes.
Стр. 774 - The dropping of the daylight in the West, The bough of cherries some officious fool Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule She rode with round the terrace, — all and each Would draw from her alike the approving speech.
Стр. 118 - When in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rhyme, In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights, Then in the blazon of sweet beauty's best, Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, I see their antique pen would have express'd Even such a beauty as you master now.
Стр. 745 - And in the moon athwart the place of tombs, Where lay the mighty bones of ancient men, Old knights, and over them the sea-wind sang Shrill, chill, with flakes of foam. He, stepping down By zigzag paths, and juts of pointed rock, Came on the shining levels of the lake. There drew he forth the brand Excalibur...
Стр. 134 - Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise. 70 (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights and live laborious days ; But, the fair guerdon when we hope to find, And think to burst out into sudden blaze, Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears, And slits the thin-spun life.