Century Readings for a Course in English LiteratureJohn William Cunliffe, James Francis Augustine Pyre, Karl Young Century Company, 1910 - 13 Seiten |
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Seite 47
... wings at al , When the youngest to the eldest said , ' Brother , we must awa . 30 35 40 11. The cock doth craw , the day doth daw , The channerin worm doth chide ; Gin we be mist out o our place , A sair pain we maun bide . 12. Faer ye ...
... wings at al , When the youngest to the eldest said , ' Brother , we must awa . 30 35 40 11. The cock doth craw , the day doth daw , The channerin worm doth chide ; Gin we be mist out o our place , A sair pain we maun bide . 12. Faer ye ...
Seite 79
... wings of the four winds . Next followeth the love she beareth to her sub- jects , who no less tendereth them than the apple of her own eye , showing herself a mother to the afflicted , a physician to the sick , a sovereign and mild ...
... wings of the four winds . Next followeth the love she beareth to her sub- jects , who no less tendereth them than the apple of her own eye , showing herself a mother to the afflicted , a physician to the sick , a sovereign and mild ...
Seite 80
... wings , The morn not waking till she sings . " Hark , hark , with what a pretty throat Poor robin redbreast tunes his note ! Hark how the jolly cuckoos sing , Cuckoo , ' to welcome in the spring ! Cuckoo , ' to welcome in the spring ...
... wings , The morn not waking till she sings . " Hark , hark , with what a pretty throat Poor robin redbreast tunes his note ! Hark how the jolly cuckoos sing , Cuckoo , ' to welcome in the spring ! Cuckoo , ' to welcome in the spring ...
Seite 82
... wings to bear itself up into the air of due commendation ; that is , art , imita- tion , and exercise . But these , neither artificial rules , nor imitative patterns , we Queis meliore luto finxit praecordia Titan , [ Whose heart ...
... wings to bear itself up into the air of due commendation ; that is , art , imita- tion , and exercise . But these , neither artificial rules , nor imitative patterns , we Queis meliore luto finxit praecordia Titan , [ Whose heart ...
Seite 112
... best ; A cloud of cumbrous gnattes doe him mo- lest , All striving to infixe their feeble stinges , That from their noyance he no where can rest , 205 But with his clownish hands their tender wings He brusheth 112 EDMUND SPENSER.
... best ; A cloud of cumbrous gnattes doe him mo- lest , All striving to infixe their feeble stinges , That from their noyance he no where can rest , 205 But with his clownish hands their tender wings He brusheth 112 EDMUND SPENSER.
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Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Antistrophe beauty breath bright called church Church of England clouds dark dead dear death deep delight Demogorgon doth dream earth eyes fair fear feel fire flowers Gawaine gentle give glory grace Guenever hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven honor hope hour king King Arthur lady land leave light live look Lord Lucan the Butler mind nature never night noble nymph o'er pain passed passion pleasure poems poet poetry praise rest Robin Hood round Samian wine Semichorus sigh sight sing Sir Bedivere Sir Ector Sir Launcelot Sir Lucan Sir Mordred sleep smile song sorrow soul spirit stars sweet tears tell thee ther thine things thought tion truth unto verse weary weep wind wings words wyllowe youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 616 - Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed: And on the pedestal these words appear : 'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair !
Seite 152 - That time of year thou may'st 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 seest 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. In me thou seest the glowing of such fire, That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed whereon it must expire, Consumed with that...
Seite 399 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by. "Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn...
Seite 150 - Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate; For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
Seite 527 - My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began ; So is it now I am a man ; So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die! The child is father of the man; And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.
Seite 565 - Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail : And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever It flung up momently the sacred river. Five miles meandering with a mazy motion Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, Then reached the caverns measureless to man, And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean: And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far Ancestral voices prophesying war!
Seite 518 - These plots of cottage-ground, these orchard-tufts, Which at this season, with their unripe fruits, Are clad in one green hue, and lose themselves 'Mid groves and copses. Once again I see These hedge-rows, hardly hedge-rows, little lines Of sportive wood run wild : these pastoral farms, Green to the very door: and wreaths of smoke Sent up, in silence, from among the trees!
Seite 240 - Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear, Compels me to disturb your season due : For Lycidas* is dead, dead ere his prime, Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer : Who would not sing for Lycidas ? He knew Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme. He must not float upon his watery bier Unwept, and welter to the parching wind, Without the meed of some melodious tear.
Seite 519 - 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. Oh! yet a little while May I behold in thee what I was once, 1*° My dear, dear Sister! and this prayer I make, Knowing that Nature never did betray The heart that loved her...
Seite 648 - Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth...