Popular Studies of Nineteenth Century PoetsF. Warne and Company, 1892 - 184 страница |
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Страница 5
... demands of a reading public . Thus , he was enabled to follow his ideal , and patiently await his constituency . He permitted neither scoffs , entreaties , nor criticism to force his hand WORDSWORTH , THE NATURALIST . 5.
... demands of a reading public . Thus , he was enabled to follow his ideal , and patiently await his constituency . He permitted neither scoffs , entreaties , nor criticism to force his hand WORDSWORTH , THE NATURALIST . 5.
Страница 6
Marshall Mather. scoffs , entreaties , nor criticism to force his hand . He played his own game , and in the long - run he came off winner . This would have been impossible to him had he not held a small competency at command , entirely ...
Marshall Mather. scoffs , entreaties , nor criticism to force his hand . He played his own game , and in the long - run he came off winner . This would have been impossible to him had he not held a small competency at command , entirely ...
Страница 7
... hand of flesh can give . ' ' And I have felt A presence that disturbs me with the joy Of elevated thoughts : a sense sublime Of something far more deeply interfused , Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns , And the round ocean and ...
... hand of flesh can give . ' ' And I have felt A presence that disturbs me with the joy Of elevated thoughts : a sense sublime Of something far more deeply interfused , Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns , And the round ocean and ...
Страница 8
... hand ; nor did he approach Nature as a museum of curiosities brought from far and near by the evolution of ages . To him it was the presence chamber of the Unseen - the abode of the Divine Being - the mighty Being who is ever awake ...
... hand ; nor did he approach Nature as a museum of curiosities brought from far and near by the evolution of ages . To him it was the presence chamber of the Unseen - the abode of the Divine Being - the mighty Being who is ever awake ...
Страница 10
... hand - that man grows young with years ; time neither wastes him nor wearies him ; he lives by admiration . ' Further . Wordsworth says , ' We live by hope . ' In re- ferring again to ' The Excursion , ' we find two characters set off ...
... hand - that man grows young with years ; time neither wastes him nor wearies him ; he lives by admiration . ' Further . Wordsworth says , ' We live by hope . ' In re- ferring again to ' The Excursion , ' we find two characters set off ...
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Popular Studies of Nineteenth Century Poets J. Marshall Mather,London and New York Frederick Warne an Приказ није доступан - 2019 |
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Abel Abt Vogler beauty beneath blasphemy breath brother Browning Browning's Byron Cain Cain's child Cleon clod Coleridge cries cursed dead death Divine dream earl was fair earth eternal faith fire genius gloom glory gold golden Golden Ass Hallam hand hate heart heaven Hood hope humour imagination immortal immortal hours instinct life's light live Locksley Hall look Lucifer man's Manfred Maud mighty mind mirth mood MOODIST moral Nature never night Palace of Art Paracelsus passion poem poet poetry pride Protus Rabbi Ben Ezra realm religion Revolt of Islam ribaldry rouse scorn seeks selfish shadow Shelley Shelley's sing song sonnet sorrow soul sound spirit stand stars Stopford Brooke sweet tears Tennyson thee thing thou thought touch true truth turn turret and tree unseen voice Wanderer wealth weep wind words Wordsworth worship youth
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Страница 8 - All thinking things, all objects of all thought, And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still A lover of the meadows and the woods, ' And mountains ; and of all that we behold From this green earth; of all the mighty world Of eye and ear, both what they half create *, And what perceive...
Страница 14 - Seven are we; And two of us at Conway dwell, And two are gone to sea; "Two of us in the churchyard lie, My sister and my brother; And, in the churchyard cottage, I Dwell near them with my mother.
Страница 161 - And bade me creep past. No! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers The heroes of old, Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears Of pain, darkness and cold. For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave, The black minute's at end, And the elements' rage, the fiend-voices that rave, Shall dwindle, shall blend, Shall change, shall become first a peace out of pain.
Страница 184 - There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live as before; The evil is null, is naught, is silence implying sound; What was good, shall be good, with, for evil, so much good more; On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven, a perfect round.
Страница 15 - Then did the little maid reply, "Seven boys and girls are we; Two of us in the churchyard lie, Beneath the churchyard tree." "You run about, my little maid, Your limbs they are alive; If two are in the churchyard laid, Then ye are only five." "Their graves are green, they may be seen," The little maid replied, "Twelve steps or more from my mother's door, And they are side by side.
Страница 56 - 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!
Страница 34 - Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is; What if my leaves are falling like its own! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce, My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth!
Страница 136 - As the husband is, the wife is: thou art mated with a clown, And the grossness of his nature will have weight to drag thee down. He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force, Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse.
Страница 169 - Then, welcome each rebuff That turns earth's smoothness rough, Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand but go! Be our joys three-parts pain! Strive, and hold cheap the strain; Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe!
Страница 180 - All we have willed or hoped or dreamed of good shall exist; Not its semblance, but itself; no beauty, nor good, nor power Whose voice has gone forth, but each survives for the melodist When eternity affirms the conception of an hour. The high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too hard...