The New Oxford Book of Eighteenth Century VerseAnthologies of eighteenth-century verse have tended to confirm traditional notions of the period as one of untroubled elegance, urbanity, and decorum. Offering over 550 poems and extracts by more than 250 poets, The New Oxford Book of Eighteenth-Century Verse presents a truer picture of this age as a much less stable and decorous time. This extraordinarily comprehensive volume includes not only a generous selection of verse by such renowned poets as Swift, Pope, Johnson, Gray, Smart, Goldsmith, Cowper, Blake, and Burns, but also a large number of poems by lesser-known and previously ignored poets. Intermixing the familiar styles and preoccupations of polite taste with much less familiar verse from all social levels, it reveals the willingness of the century's poets to respond graphically, humorously, or unconventionally to all aspects of rural and urban life. Topics range from golf and hypnotism to amorous adventure and marital discord, from growing sensitivity to natural beauty to fear of the effects of the Industrial Revolution, and from the anguish of poverty and unemployment to animated political exchanges in the wake of the French Revolution. Taken together, these poems reveal that both unpredictability and familiarity played as significant a role as Augustan reason played in the world of eighteenth-century poetry. The anthology also includes a helpful introduction, notes, and a glossary. |
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Page 158
... or aching For the black , or the fair , in what clime , in what nation , Hast thou not felt a fit of pitapat - ation ? ' a Thus accused , the wild thing gave this sober reply : See the heart without motion , though Celia pass ...
... or aching For the black , or the fair , in what clime , in what nation , Hast thou not felt a fit of pitapat - ation ? ' a Thus accused , the wild thing gave this sober reply : See the heart without motion , though Celia pass ...
Page 301
Whole groups of foppish slovens foully fine In dirty shirts and tinsel stink and shine , Midst crowds of dames who , in their nightly trim , Just reeking from their beds , still stew and steam : An ill - bred , restless , wild and ...
Whole groups of foppish slovens foully fine In dirty shirts and tinsel stink and shine , Midst crowds of dames who , in their nightly trim , Just reeking from their beds , still stew and steam : An ill - bred , restless , wild and ...
Page 378
20 Whilst Vengeance , in the lurid air , Lifts her red arm , exposed and bare : On whom that rav'ning brood of Fate , Who lap the blood of sorrow , wait : Who , Fear , this ghastly train can see , And look not madly wild , like thee ?
20 Whilst Vengeance , in the lurid air , Lifts her red arm , exposed and bare : On whom that rav'ning brood of Fate , Who lap the blood of sorrow , wait : Who , Fear , this ghastly train can see , And look not madly wild , like thee ?
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Contents
JOHN POMFRET 16671702 | 1 |
THOMAS DURFEY 16531723 | 5 |
JOHN PHILIPS 16761709 | 6 |
Copyright | |
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