English in Schools: A Series of Essays

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Ginn., 1881 - 79 pages

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Page x - Rebellious passion ; for the Gods approve The depth, and not the tumult, of the soul ; A fervent, not ungovernable, love.
Page 24 - O ! they have lived long on the alms-basket of words. I marvel thy master hath not eaten thee for a word ; for thou art not so long by the head as honorificabilitudinitatibus: thou art easier swallowed than a flap-dragon.
Page 22 - ... idle, unwholesome, and (as I may term them) vermiculate questions, which have indeed a kind of quickness and life of spirit, but no soundness of matter or goodness of quality. This kind of degenerate learning did chiefly reign amongst the schoolmen ; who having sharp and strong wits, and abundance of leisure, and small variety of reading ; but their wits being shut up in the cells of a few authors (chiefly Aristotle their dictator) as their persons were shut up in the cells...
Page vi - Love's not love When it is mingled with regards that stand Aloof from the entire point.
Page 22 - Surely, like as many substances in nature, which are solid, do putrefy and corrupt into worms ; so it is the property of good and sound knowledge, to putrefy and dissolve into a number of subtle, idle, unwholesome, and, as I may term them, vermiculate questions, which have indeed a kind of quickness, and life of spirit, but no soundness of matter, or goodness of quality.
Page 32 - I'll never Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand, As if a man were author of himself And knew no other kin.
Page xv - Joyous as morning Thou art laughing and scorning; Thou hast a nest for thy love and thy rest, And, though little troubled with sloth, Drunken Lark! thou would'st be loth To be such a traveller as I. Happy, happy Liver, With a soul as strong as a mountain river Pouring out praise to the Almighty Giver, Joy and jollity be with us both!
Page xii - All accidents, and to the very road Which they have fashioned would confine us down, Like engines ; when will their presumption learn, That in the unreasoning progress of the world A wiser spirit is at work for us, A better eye than theirs, most prodigal Of blessings, and most studious of our good, Even in what seem our most unfruitful hours...
Page viii - Can string you names of districts, cities, towns, The whole world over, tight as beads of dew Upon a gossamer thread; he sifts, he weighs ; All things are put to question; he must live Knowing that he grows wiser every day Or else not live at all, and seeing too Each little drop of wisdom as it falls Into the dimpling cistern of his heart : For this unnatural growth the trainer blame, Pity the tree.
Page 33 - A POET! — He hath put his heart to school, Nor dares to move unpropped upon the staff Which Art hath lodged within his hand — must laugh By precept only, and shed tears by rule. Thy Art be Nature ; the live current quaff, And let the groveller sip his stagnant pool, In fear that else, when Critics grave and cool Have killed him, Scorn should write his epitaph. How does the Meadow-flower its bloom unfold ? Because the lovely little flower is free Down to its root, and, in that freedom, bold ;...

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