The English Poets, Volum 4Thomas Humphry Ward Macmillan, 1894 |
Des de l'interior del llibre
Resultats 1 - 5 de 28.
Pàgina viii
... Italy • 93 · 94 • 95 Austin Dobson 99 Ginevra • WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES ( 1762-1850 ) Sonnets : Written at Ostend Influence of Time on Grief November 1793 • • 100 100 • ΙΟΙ Bereavement • • ΙΟΙ SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE ( 1772-1834 ) Walter H ...
... Italy • 93 · 94 • 95 Austin Dobson 99 Ginevra • WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES ( 1762-1850 ) Sonnets : Written at Ostend Influence of Time on Grief November 1793 • • 100 100 • ΙΟΙ Bereavement • • ΙΟΙ SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE ( 1772-1834 ) Walter H ...
Pàgina 89
... Italy ( complete edition ) 1834 ] When a poet has become a poet of the past and in the natural course of things his poetry has ceased to be talked about , it is not easy to ascertain how far it may or may not have ceased to be read ...
... Italy ( complete edition ) 1834 ] When a poet has become a poet of the past and in the natural course of things his poetry has ceased to be talked about , it is not easy to ascertain how far it may or may not have ceased to be read ...
Pàgina 90
... Italy ; and they were written , the earliest at twenty - two years of age , the latest at seventy - one . Human Life is a poem of the same type as The Pleasures of Memory , and in the same verse . The fault of such poems is that they ...
... Italy ; and they were written , the earliest at twenty - two years of age , the latest at seventy - one . Human Life is a poem of the same type as The Pleasures of Memory , and in the same verse . The fault of such poems is that they ...
Pàgina 94
... Italy from sea to sea exults , As well indeed she may ! But I transgress . He , who has known the weight of praise himself , Should spare another . ' Saying so , he laid His sonnet , an impromptu , at my feet , ( If his , then Petrarch ...
... Italy from sea to sea exults , As well indeed she may ! But I transgress . He , who has known the weight of praise himself , Should spare another . ' Saying so , he laid His sonnet , an impromptu , at my feet , ( If his , then Petrarch ...
Continguts
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Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
Frases i termes més freqüents
ballads beauty beneath blank verse breast breath bright Byron Camelot charm cloud DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI dark dead dear death deep delight doth dream earth Emily Brontë English Excalibur eyes face fair fame fear feel flowers friends gaze Goethe grace grave green hand happy Hartley Coleridge hast hath hear heard heart heaven hill hour human Iacchus Keats King Arthur Lady Lady of Shalott light live lonely look Love's lyric Matthew Arnold mind moon morn mountains nature never night o'er once Oxus passion poems poet poetic poetry rose round Rustum Samian wine Seistan shadow Shalott shore silent sing Sir Bedivere sleep smile song sonnet sorrow soul spirit stars stood stream sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought thro trees verse voice wandering waves weary wild wind Wordsworth youth
Passatges populars
Pàgina 19 - Is lightened: — that serene and blessed mood, In which the affections gently lead us on, — Until, the breath of this corporeal frame And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul: While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things.
Pàgina 284 - Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin — his control Stops with the shore ; upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy...
Pàgina 375 - WILD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou, Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill (Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air) With...
Pàgina 324 - O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning.
Pàgina 285 - Unchangeable, save to thy wild waves' play, Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow: Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now. Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests; in all time, — Calm or convulsed, in breeze, or gale, or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark-heaving — boundless, endless, and sublime, The image of eternity, the throne Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee;...
Pàgina 83 - Earth has not anything to show more fair : Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty : This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning ; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky, All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Pàgina 324 - Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory ; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.
Pàgina 376 - Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams The blue Mediterranean, where he lay, Lulled by the coil of his crystalline streams, Beside a pumice isle in Baiae's bay, And saw in sleep old palaces and towers Quivering within the wave's intenser day, All overgrown with azure moss and flowers So sweet, the sense faints picturing them!
Pàgina 260 - And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent ! THE HARP THE MONARCH MINSTREL SWEPT.
Pàgina 740 - Ah, love, let us be true To one another! for the world, which seems To lie before us like a land of dreams, So various, so beautiful, so new, Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain; And we are here as on a darkling plain Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, Where ignorant armies clash by night.