Foundation Studies in Literature

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Silver, Burdett, 1895 - English literature - 292 pages
 

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Margaret Mooney provided eight “groups” of readings with her discussions. Almost all have to do with myth and legend, but group seven is an important (to me at least) study: “Blending of History and Mythology.” Literary criticism and examination sometimes require a solid understanding of what is myth, what is legend, and what is real, or historical as in this case. Mooney’s book provides some solid literary discussion with excellent examples to illustrate. (The visuals in this book are pretty special art as well).
Mooney, Margaret Sullivan. Foundation Studies in Literature. New York: Silver, Burdett, 1896. http://books.google.com/books?id=ZhMBAAAAYAAJ.
 

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Page 33 - QUEEN and huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair, State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose; Cynthia's shining orb was made Heaven to clear when day did close: Bless us then with wished sight, Goddess excellently bright.
Page 5 - The moon shines bright : — In such a night as this, When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, And they did make no noise ; in such a night, Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan walls, And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents, Where Cressid lay that night.
Page 130 - And ever, against eating cares, Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse ; Such* as the meeting soul may pierce, In notes, with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out, With wanton heed and giddy cunning ; The melting voice through mazes running, Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony ; That Orpheus...
Page 37 - That orbed maiden with white fire laden, Whom mortals call the moon, Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor, By the midnight breezes strewn ; And wherever the beat of her unseen feet, Which only the angels hear, May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof, The stars peep behind her and peer : And I laugh to see them whirl and flee, Like a swarm of golden bees...
Page 169 - As tho' to breathe were life. Life piled on life Were all too little, and of one to me Little remains : but every hour is saved From that eternal silence, something more, A bringer of new things; and vile it were For some three suns to store and hoard myself, And this gray spirit yearning in desire To follow knowledge, like a sinking star, Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.
Page 283 - Ah ! my Lord Arthur, whither shall I go ? Where shall I hide my forehead and my eyes ? For now I see the true old times are dead, When every morning brought a noble chance, And every chance brought out a noble knight.
Page 183 - Growing on's cheek (but none knows how) ; With these the crystal of his brow, And then the dimple of his chin — All these did my Campaspe win. At last he set her both his eyes. — She won, and Cupid blind did rise. O Love, has she done this to thee ? What shall, alas ! become of me ? 6 SPRING'S WELCOME What bird so sings, yet so does wail ? O, 'tis the ravished nightingale. Jug, jug, jug, jug, tereu ! she cries, And still her woes at midnight rise.
Page 280 - And caught him by the hilt, and brandish' d him Three times, and drew him under in the mere. And lightly went the other to the King. Then spoke King Arthur, drawing thicker breath : " Now see I by thine eyes that this is done. Speak out : what is it thou hast heard, or seen...
Page 258 - MY good blade carves the casques of men, My tough lance thrusteth sure, My strength is as the strength of ten, Because my heart is pure.
Page 94 - Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. It was the deep midnoon : one silvery cloud Had lost his way between the piney sides Of this long glen. Then to the bower they came, Naked they came to that smooth-swarded bower, And at their feet the crocus brake like fire, Violet, amaracus, and asphodel, Lotos and lilies : and a wind arose, And overhead the wandering ivy and vine, This way and that, in many a wild festoon Ran riot, garlanding the gnarled boughs With bunch and berry and flower thro

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