Sketches of English Literature: With Considerations on the Spirit of the Times, Men, and Revolutions, Volume 1H. Colburn, 1836 - English literature |
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Page 5
... Velleius Paterculus , Justin , Orosus , Sulpitius Severus ; through the fathers of the Church and the ecclesiastical writers , Tertullian , Cyprian , Ambrosius , Hilary of Poitiers , Paulinus , Augustin , Jerome , Sal- INTRODUCTION . 5.
... Velleius Paterculus , Justin , Orosus , Sulpitius Severus ; through the fathers of the Church and the ecclesiastical writers , Tertullian , Cyprian , Ambrosius , Hilary of Poitiers , Paulinus , Augustin , Jerome , Sal- INTRODUCTION . 5.
Page 49
... fathers are not there to make them ashamed of flight they look trem- bling at this sky , this sea , these forests , which they never before beheld . Cooped up and already conquered , they are delivered into our hands by our gods ...
... fathers are not there to make them ashamed of flight they look trem- bling at this sky , this sea , these forests , which they never before beheld . Cooped up and already conquered , they are delivered into our hands by our gods ...
Page 50
... fathers of Dargo ; bend and carry him to the place of your rest . And ye , maids of Trenmor's airy land , prepare the bright robe of mist for my love . O Dargo , why have I loved , why was I be- loved , so much ! Our souls were one ...
... fathers of Dargo ; bend and carry him to the place of your rest . And ye , maids of Trenmor's airy land , prepare the bright robe of mist for my love . O Dargo , why have I loved , why was I be- loved , so much ! Our souls were one ...
Page 51
... . In vain did my father look for my return ; in vain did my mother mourn my absence . Their eye was often on the sea ; the rocks often heard their cry . But I have been deaf , O my parents , to your voice E 2 ERSE POEMS . 51.
... . In vain did my father look for my return ; in vain did my mother mourn my absence . Their eye was often on the sea ; the rocks often heard their cry . But I have been deaf , O my parents , to your voice E 2 ERSE POEMS . 51.
Page 94
... fathers to their children ; Créci , Poitiers , Agincourt , exhibit no other picture than that of the disas- ters of a wide spread civil war . French was spoken by Philippa of Hainault , the consort of Edward III ; she had Froissart for ...
... fathers to their children ; Créci , Poitiers , Agincourt , exhibit no other picture than that of the disas- ters of a wide spread civil war . French was spoken by Philippa of Hainault , the consort of Edward III ; she had Froissart for ...
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Common terms and phrases
Anglo-Saxon ballad barbarous bard beauty bishops castle catholic century character Charles Childe Waters Christ christian church civil clergy composed court Dante Dargo death Earl Elector of Saxony Elizabeth Ellen England ENGLISH LITERATURE epoch Erasmus faith father fayre France French French language genius glory hand haue heaven Henry VIII heresies honour idiom James Juliet King knights ladies ladye Latin laws liberty lives Lord Luther manners ment middle ages Milton mind minstrels Molière monk nations nature never noble Norman Parliament Petrarch poem poet poetry political pope priest princes protestantism Queen reformation reign religion replies revolution Robert Wace Roman Rome Romeo Romeo and Juliet says scenes Scotland Shak Shakspeare Shakspeare's sing society song spirit style sword taste thee thing third estate thou tomb tragedy translated troubadours trouvère verse whilst William William the Conqueror words writings
Popular passages
Page 276 - I'd have you buy and sell so ; so give alms ; Pray so ; and, for the ordering your affairs, To sing them too. When you do dance, I wish you A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do Nothing but that...
Page 276 - O Proserpina ! For the flowers now that frighted thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon ! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty ; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath...
Page 315 - No longer mourn for me when I am dead Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell: Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it; for I love you so, That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot, If thinking on me then should make you woe.
Page 270 - It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale. Look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east ; Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund Day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops.
Page 314 - That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
Page 271 - Nor that is not the lark whose notes do beat The vaulty heaven so high above our heads. I have more care to stay than will to go. Come, death, and welcome ! Juliet wills it so. How is't, my soul ? Let's talk.
Page 276 - That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty ; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath ; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength — a malady Most incident to maids ; bold oxlips and The crown imperial ; lilies of all kinds, The flower-de-luce being one ! O, these I lack, To make you garlands of, and my sweet friend, To strew him o'er and o'er ! Flo.
Page 231 - For whilst, to the shame of slow-endeavouring art, Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart Hath, from the leaves of thy unvalued book, Those Delphic lines with deep impression took ; Then thou, our fancy of itself bereaving, Dost make us marble, with too much conceiving ; And, so sepulchred, in such pomp dost lie, That kings, for such a tomb, would wish to die.
Page 314 - In me. thou see'st 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 see'st 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 which it was nourish'd by. This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong, To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
Page 231 - What needs my Shakespeare for his honoured bones, The labour of an age in piled stones, Or that his hallowed relics should be hid Under a star-ypointing pyramid? Dear son of memory, great heir of Fame, What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name? Thou in our wonder and astonishment Hast built thyself a livelong monument.