Popular Studies of Nineteenth Century PoetsF. Warne and Company, 1892 - 184 страница |
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Страница 8
Marshall Mather. A motion and a spirit , that impels 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 ...
Marshall Mather. A motion and a spirit , that impels 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 ...
Страница 12
... things simple and unrenowned - love of what the proud call ' common , ' and what the exclusive do not admit within their sphere . Love for the love found in cots where poor men lie . Love for the colour of a wayside flower , for the ...
... things simple and unrenowned - love of what the proud call ' common , ' and what the exclusive do not admit within their sphere . Love for the love found in cots where poor men lie . Love for the colour of a wayside flower , for the ...
Страница 20
... thing he must not do - he must not prose . His words must be life , and his teaching inspiration and revelation , rather than echo and repetition . Now , I do not know of a finer study for any thoughtful man , who seeks the moral nerve ...
... thing he must not do - he must not prose . His words must be life , and his teaching inspiration and revelation , rather than echo and repetition . Now , I do not know of a finer study for any thoughtful man , who seeks the moral nerve ...
Страница 31
... thing they loved fled on before , And now , even now , they clasped it . Their bright locks Stream like a comet's flashing hair ; they all Sweep onward . ' ' These are the immortal hours , Of whom thou SHELLEY , THE IDEALIST . 31.
... thing they loved fled on before , And now , even now , they clasped it . Their bright locks Stream like a comet's flashing hair ; they all Sweep onward . ' ' These are the immortal hours , Of whom thou SHELLEY , THE IDEALIST . 31.
Страница 33
... believed , as creations of his ever- changing feelings after someone , or some thing , in whom he would fain believe . For example , to the West Wind he cries : G ? ' Be thou , Spirit fierce , My spirit ! 3 SHELLEY , THE IDEALIST . 33.
... believed , as creations of his ever- changing feelings after someone , or some thing , in whom he would fain believe . For example , to the West Wind he cries : G ? ' Be thou , Spirit fierce , My spirit ! 3 SHELLEY , THE IDEALIST . 33.
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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...