The English Poets: Chaucer to DonneThomas Humphry Ward Macmillan and Company, 1880 |
Des de l'interior del llibre
Resultats 1 - 5 de 35.
Pàgina vi
... called masterpieces - if it had been so , the volumes would of necessity have been three times as many as they are . Still less has it been to give a complete history of English poetry - if it had been so , many names that we have ...
... called masterpieces - if it had been so , the volumes would of necessity have been three times as many as they are . Still less has it been to give a complete history of English poetry - if it had been so , many names that we have ...
Pàgina xvii
... of poetry worthily , and more highly than it has been the custom to conceive of it . We should conceive of it as capable of higher uses , and should be the same . VOL . I. b " called to higher destinies , than those which in.
... of poetry worthily , and more highly than it has been the custom to conceive of it . We should conceive of it as capable of higher uses , and should be the same . VOL . I. b " called to higher destinies , than those which in.
Pàgina xviii
Thomas Humphry Ward. " called to higher destinies , than those which in general men have assigned to it hitherto . More and more mankind will discover that we have to turn to poetry to interpret life for us , to console us , to sustain ...
Thomas Humphry Ward. " called to higher destinies , than those which in general men have assigned to it hitherto . More and more mankind will discover that we have to turn to poetry to interpret life for us , to console us , to sustain ...
Pàgina xxi
... called classical poetry , the court- tragedy of the seventeenth century , a poetry which Pellisson long ago reproached with its want of the true poetic stamp , with its politesse stérile et rampante , but which nevertheless has reigned ...
... called classical poetry , the court- tragedy of the seventeenth century , a poetry which Pellisson long ago reproached with its want of the true poetic stamp , with its politesse stérile et rampante , but which nevertheless has reigned ...
Pàgina 5
... called away his hero from the embraces of the love - lorn queen to the work of founding the empire of the world ! ' The fresshë lady , of the citee queene , Stood in the temple , in her estat royalle , So richely , and eke so faire ...
... called away his hero from the embraces of the love - lorn queen to the work of founding the empire of the world ! ' The fresshë lady , of the citee queene , Stood in the temple , in her estat royalle , So richely , and eke so faire ...
Continguts
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159 | |
175 | |
181 | |
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210 | |
255 | |
263 | |
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275 | |
322 | |
431 | |
461 | |
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474 | |
484 | |
495 | |
496 | |
521 | |
529 | |
535 | |
542 | |
548 | |
558 | |
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
Frases i termes més freqüents
Aeneid Astrophel and Stella ballads beauty behold bliss Caelica Chaucer Clerk Saunders dead dear death delight doth Elizabethan England's Helicon English Euphuists eyes Faery Queen fair fayre fear flowers genius Glasgerion gold grace grief gude hand hart hast hath heart heaven herte hire honour king lady light live Lord love's lovers Marlowe Marlowe's mind mony never night nocht nought passion Petrarch plays pleasure poems poet poetical poetry praise Quhat Quhen quhilk quoth rich Robin Robin Hood sall sche Scotch Shakespeare Sidney Sidney's sighs sight sing sleep song sonnet 26 sonnets sorrow Spenser sweet Tamburlaine tears tell thair thay thee ther thine thing thou thought thow Timor Mortis conturbat true unto Venus Venus and Adonis verse virtue weep whan wolde words writings youth
Passatges populars
Pàgina 459 - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it ! My part of death, no one so true Did share it.
Pàgina 449 - Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace.
Pàgina xxxix - Tho' they may gang a kennin wrang, To step aside is human : One point must still be greatly dark, The moving Why they do it ; And just as lamely can ye mark, How far perhaps they rue it. Who made the heart, 'tis He alone Decidedly can try us, He knows each chord its various tone, Each spring its various bias : Then at the balance let's be mute, We never can adjust it ; What's done we partly may compute, But know not what's resisted.
Pàgina xxxviii - For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities, and a' that ; The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, Are higher rank than a that. Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will for a' that ; That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, May bear the gree, and a' that. For a
Pàgina 347 - With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies : How silently ; and with how wan a face ! What ! may it be, that even in heavenly place That busy Archer his sharp arrows tries?
Pàgina 485 - IF all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee and be thy love.
Pàgina 461 - Tu-whit, tu-who - a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow, And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl...
Pàgina 456 - tis true, I have gone here and there, And made myself a motley to the view, Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear, Made old offences of affections new.
Pàgina xiii - The future of poetry is immense, because in poetry, where it is worthy of its high destinies, our race, as time goes on, will find an ever surer and surer stay. There is not a creed which is not shaken, not an accredited dogma which is not shown to be questionable, not a received tradition which does not threaten to dissolve.
Pàgina 461 - Under the greenwood tree * Who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither : Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather.* JAQ.