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The Advance of English Poetry in the Twentieth Century
William Lyon Phelps
Приказ није доступан - 2018
American appeared artist beauty better born bring Browning called century clear comes common contain contemporary criticism dark dead death drama earth English excellent experience expressed eyes face fact faith feel Fields follow genius give hand hear heart human idea imagination impressive interesting John land language leave light Lindsay lines literary literature living look manner Masefield Masters mean mind nature never night original passion perhaps person pieces plays poems poet poetic poetry present printed produced prose published reader reason remarkable remember seems seen short singing song soul spirit Street studied sure sweet things thou thought tion true truth turn twentieth University verse voice volume whole wind women write written Yeats young youth
Страница 64 - I proposed to myself in these poems was to choose incidents and situations from common life, and to relate or describe them, throughout, as far as was possible, in a selection of language really used by men, and, at the. same time, to throw over them a certain colouring of imagination, whereby ordinary things should be presented to the mind in an unusual way...
Страница 64 - Humble and rustic life was generally chosen, because, in that condition, the essential passions of the heart find a better soil in which they can attain their maturity, are less under restraint, and speak a plainer and more emphatic language; because in that condition of life our elementary feelings co-exist in a state of greater simplicity, and, consequently, may be more accurately contemplated, and more forcibly communicated ; because the manners of rural life germinate from those elementary feelings,...
Страница 187 - Laugh, and the world laughs with you; Weep, and you weep alone; For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, But has trouble enough of its own.
Страница 54 - LOVELIEST of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough, And stands about the woodland ride Wearing white for Eastertide. Now, of my threescore years and ten, Twenty will not come again, And take from seventy springs a score, It only leaves me fifty more. 3 And since to look at things in bloom Fifty springs are little room, About the woodlands I will go To see the cherry hung with snow.
Страница 116 - Oh, is the water sweet and cool, Gentle and brown, above the pool? And laughs the immortal river still Under the mill, under the mill?
Страница 149 - O'Leary in the grave. Was it for this the wild geese spread The grey wing upon every tide; For this that all that blood was shed, For this Edward Fitzgerald died,. And Robert Emmet and Wolfe Tone, All that delirium of the brave? Romantic Ireland's dead and gone, It's with O'Leary in the grave.
Страница 155 - Unlike the rhetoricians, who get a confident voice from remembering the crowd they have won or may win, we...
Страница 207 - Booth led boldly with his big bass drum — (Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?) The Saints smiled gravely and they said: "He's come." (Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb...
Страница 54 - Ay, she lies down lightly, She lies not down to weep: Your girl is well contented. Be still, my lad, and sleep. 'Is my friend hearty, Now I am thin and pine, And has he found to sleep in A better bed than mine?
Страница 53 - Out of a stem that scored the hand I wrung it in a weary land. But take it: if the smack is sour, The better for the embittered hour; It should do good to heart and head When your soul is in my soul's stead; And I will friend you, if I may, In the dark and cloudy day.