Modern British PoetryLouis Untermeyer Harcourt, Brace, 1920 - 234 страница |
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Страница xii
... verses of Robert Buchanan , Edwin Arnold and Sir Lewis Morris - even in the lesser later work of Alfred Tenny- son . And , without Tupper's emptiness or absurdities , the outworn platitudes again find their constant lover in Alfred ...
... verses of Robert Buchanan , Edwin Arnold and Sir Lewis Morris - even in the lesser later work of Alfred Tenny- son . And , without Tupper's emptiness or absurdities , the outworn platitudes again find their constant lover in Alfred ...
Страница xv
... verse of many of the younger poets was minor because it was little more than a pose - not because it was erotic . It was a passing mood which gave the poetry of the hour a hothouse fragrance ; a perfume faint yet unmistakable and ...
... verse of many of the younger poets was minor because it was little more than a pose - not because it was erotic . It was a passing mood which gave the poetry of the hour a hothouse fragrance ; a perfume faint yet unmistakable and ...
Страница xvi
... verse is imperialistic , over - muscu- lar and strident , his noisy moments are redeemed not only by his delicate lyrics but by his passionate enthusiasm for nobility in whatever cause it was joined . He never dis- dained the actual ...
... verse is imperialistic , over - muscu- lar and strident , his noisy moments are redeemed not only by his delicate lyrics but by his passionate enthusiasm for nobility in whatever cause it was joined . He never dis- dained the actual ...
Страница xviii
... verses and his intensely musical prose but his sharp prefaces that were to exercise such an influence . In the notable introduction to the Playboy of the West- ern World , Synge declared , " When I was writing The Shadow of the Glen ...
... verses and his intensely musical prose but his sharp prefaces that were to exercise such an influence . In the notable introduction to the Playboy of the West- ern World , Synge declared , " When I was writing The Shadow of the Glen ...
Страница xix
... verse of his immediate predecessors and the dehumanized mysticism of many of his associates . In that memorable preface to his Poems he wrote what was a slogan , a manifesto and at the same time a classic credo for all that we call the ...
... verse of his immediate predecessors and the dehumanized mysticism of many of his associates . In that memorable preface to his Poems he wrote what was a slogan , a manifesto and at the same time a classic credo for all that we call the ...
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Ballads beauty birds blue born break breath Celtic revival cold dark dawn dead dear death delight Don John dream Dublin dust earth England English eyes F. S. Flint face feet fire flame flower G. K. Chesterton glow gold golden grass green grey Gunga Gunga Din guns hand hear heart heaven hills Il Trovatore Irish John Masefield John of Austria Kew in lilac-time land Lascelles Abercrombie light listens living London lonely look lover Masefield merry moon morn never night passion peace poems poet poetry prose published Ralph Hodgson Robert Nichols Robin rose Rupert Brooke Sassoon Sherwood shining ships sigh silence sing sinks low Sitwell song soul stars stir stone strange sun sinks low sunset sweet thee There's things trees verse voice volume wild Wilfrid Wilson Gibson wind wonder wood Yeats
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Страница 16 - REQUIEM UNDER the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be ; Home is the sailor, home from sea, And the hunter home from the hill.
Страница 40 - 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. 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 53 - I WILL arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made: Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee, And live alone in the bee-loud glade. And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings; There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full...
Страница 160 - Go down to Kew in lilac-time (it isn't far from London! ) And you shall wander hand in hand with love in summer's wonderland; Go down to Kew in lilac-time (it isn't far from London!
Страница 39 - Shoulder-high we bring you home, And set you at your threshold down. Townsman of a stiller town. Smart lad, to slip betimes away From fields where glory does not stay And early though the laurel grows It withers quicker than the rose.
Страница 178 - THE OLD SHIPS I have seen old ships sail like swans asleep Beyond the village which men still call Tyre, With leaden age o'ercargoed, dipping deep For Famagusta and the hidden sun That rings black Cyprus with a lake of fire; And all those ships were certainly so old — Who knows how oft with squat and noisy gun, Questing brown slaves or Syrian oranges, The pirate Genoese Hell-raked them till they rolled Blood, water, fruit and corpses up the hold. But now through friendly seas they softly run, Painted...
Страница 101 - In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields.
Страница 111 - Crusade. Strong gongs groaning as the guns boom far, Don John of Austria is going to the war, Stiff flags straining in the night-blasts cold In the gloom black-purple, in the glint old-gold, Torchlight crimson on the copper kettle-drums, Then the tuckets, then the trumpets, then the cannon, and he comes.
Страница 107 - Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes, Where he stood perplexed and still. But only a host of phantom listeners That dwelt in the lone house then Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight To that voice from the world of men: Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair, That goes down to the empty hall, Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken By the lonely Traveller's call.
Страница 10 - Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul.