The Leading English Poets from Chaucer to BrowningHoughton Mifflin, 1915 - Всего страниц: 918 |
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Стр. 62
... tell her lamentable cace , And eke this battels end , will need another place . CANTO VII The Redcrosse Knight is captive made , By gyaunt proud opprest : Prince Arthure meets with Una great- ly with those newes distrest . I WHAT man so ...
... tell her lamentable cace , And eke this battels end , will need another place . CANTO VII The Redcrosse Knight is captive made , By gyaunt proud opprest : Prince Arthure meets with Una great- ly with those newes distrest . I WHAT man so ...
Стр. 64
... tell his great distresse . XX He had not travaild long , when on the way He wofull lady , wofull Üna , met , Fast flying from the Paynims greedy pray , Whilest Satyrane him from pursuit did let : Who when her eyes she on the dwarf had ...
... tell his great distresse . XX He had not travaild long , when on the way He wofull lady , wofull Üna , met , Fast flying from the Paynims greedy pray , Whilest Satyrane him from pursuit did let : Who when her eyes she on the dwarf had ...
Стр. 65
... Tell on , ' quoth she , the wofull tragedy , The which these reliques sad present unto mine eye . XXV ' Tempestuous Fortune hath spent all her spight , And thrilling Sorrow throwne his utmost dart ; Thy sad tong cannot tell more heavy ...
... Tell on , ' quoth she , the wofull tragedy , The which these reliques sad present unto mine eye . XXV ' Tempestuous Fortune hath spent all her spight , And thrilling Sorrow throwne his utmost dart ; Thy sad tong cannot tell more heavy ...
Стр. 67
... my griefe , Or that your wisedome will direct my thought , Or that your prowesse can me yield reliefe : Then heare the story sad , which I shall tell you briefe . XLIII " The forlorne maiden , whom your eies have THE FAERIE QUEENE 67.
... my griefe , Or that your wisedome will direct my thought , Or that your prowesse can me yield reliefe : Then heare the story sad , which I shall tell you briefe . XLIII " The forlorne maiden , whom your eies have THE FAERIE QUEENE 67.
Стр. 73
... tell . Againe he askt , where that same knight was layd , Whom great Orgoglio with his puissaunce fell Had made his caytive thrall : againe he sayde , He could not tell : ne ever other answere made . XXXIII Then asked he , which way he ...
... tell . Againe he askt , where that same knight was layd , Whom great Orgoglio with his puissaunce fell Had made his caytive thrall : againe he sayde , He could not tell : ne ever other answere made . XXXIII Then asked he , which way he ...
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The Leading English Poets from Chaucer to Browning: Edited, with ... Lucius Hudson Holt Недоступно для просмотра - 2017 |
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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.