English poetry, for use in the schools of the Collegiate institution, Liverpool [ed. by W. J. Conybeare]., Llibre 4

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Pàgina 27 - They heard, and were abashed, and up they sprung Upon the wing, as when men wont to watch, On duty sleeping found by whom they dread, Rouse and bestir themselves ere well awake. Nor did they not perceive the evil plight In which they were, or the fierce pains not feel; Yet to their General's voice they soon obeyed Innumerable.
Pàgina 25 - Thus Satan talking to his nearest mate With head uplift above the wave, and eyes That sparkling blazed; his other parts besides Prone on the flood, extended long and large, Lay floating many a rood...
Pàgina 20 - Who was it that thus cried? Why, worthy thane, You do unbend your noble strength, to think So brainsickly of things. Go get some water, And wash this filthy witness from your hand. Why did you bring these daggers from the place? They must lie there: go carry them, and smear The sleepy grooms with blood. Macb. I'll go no more: I am afraid to think what I have done Look on't again I dare not.
Pàgina 55 - She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay.
Pàgina 58 - This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not.
Pàgina 29 - Commander : he, above the rest In shape and gesture proudly eminent, Stood like a tower : his form had yet not lost All her original brightness ; nor appear'd Less than Arch-Angel ruin'd, and the excess Of glory obscured...
Pàgina 23 - With that grim ferryman, which poets write of, Unto the kingdom of perpetual night. The first that there did greet my stranger soul, Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick; Who cried aloud,— What scourge for perjury Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence...
Pàgina 25 - Created hugest that swim the ocean stream : Him, haply, slumbering on the Norway foam, The pilot of some small night-foundered skiff Deeming some island, oft, as seamen tell, With fixed anchor in his scaly rind Moors by his side under the lee, while night Invests the sea, and wished morn delays...
Pàgina 18 - Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace, With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design Moves like a ghost.
Pàgina 41 - Purification in the old Law did save, And such as yet once more I trust to have Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint, Came vested all in white, pure as her mind: Her face was...

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