The English Poets: Selections with Critical Introductions by Various Writers and a General Introduction, Volume 3Thomas Humphry Ward Macmillan, 1906 - English poetry |
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Page 12
... tell the signs by which you may The wandering shepherdess discover . Coquet and coy at once her air , Both studied , though both seem neglected ; Careless she is with artful care , Affecting to seem unaffected . With skill her eyes dart ...
... tell the signs by which you may The wandering shepherdess discover . Coquet and coy at once her air , Both studied , though both seem neglected ; Careless she is with artful care , Affecting to seem unaffected . With skill her eyes dart ...
Page 14
... tell the doubtful day : Dim he discerns majestic Atlas rise , And bend beneath the burden of the skies ; His towering brows aloft no tempests know , Whilst lightning flies , and thunder rolls below . Distant from hence beyond a waste of ...
... tell the doubtful day : Dim he discerns majestic Atlas rise , And bend beneath the burden of the skies ; His towering brows aloft no tempests know , Whilst lightning flies , and thunder rolls below . Distant from hence beyond a waste of ...
Page 21
... tell ; Dear five years old befriends my passion , And I may write till she can spell . For , while she makes her silk - worms beds With all the tender things I swear ; Whilst all the house my passion reads , In papers round her baby's ...
... tell ; Dear five years old befriends my passion , And I may write till she can spell . For , while she makes her silk - worms beds With all the tender things I swear ; Whilst all the house my passion reads , In papers round her baby's ...
Page 22
... tell your parting lover , You wish fair winds may waft him over . Alas ! what winds can happy prove , That bear me far from what I love ? Alas ! what dangers on the main Can equal those that I sustain , From slighted vows , and cold ...
... tell your parting lover , You wish fair winds may waft him over . Alas ! what winds can happy prove , That bear me far from what I love ? Alas ! what dangers on the main Can equal those that I sustain , From slighted vows , and cold ...
Page 51
... tell the queen . The queen , so gracious , mild , and good , Cries , ' Is he gone ! ' tis time he should . He's dead , you say ; then let him rot : I'm glad the medals were forgot.1 I promised him , I own ; but when ? I only was the ...
... tell the queen . The queen , so gracious , mild , and good , Cries , ' Is he gone ! ' tis time he should . He's dead , you say ; then let him rot : I'm glad the medals were forgot.1 I promised him , I own ; but when ? I only was the ...
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Common terms and phrases
Addison admiration Ambrose Philips beauty beneath blank verse bless blest born breast breath Castle of Indolence charms couplet court criticism death Dunciad Eclogues English English poetry Epistle Essay Essay on Criticism Ev'n ev'ry eyes fair fame fate fool frae genius GEORGE SAINTSBURY grace Gratius Faliscus grave Gray Grongar Hill hand happy head heart heaven Horace kings knave lines literary live Lord Lord Hervey mind moral muse nature ne'er never night numbers o'er once pain passion perhaps Pindaric pleasure poem poet poet's poetical poetry Pope Pope's pow'rs praise pride prose rhyme rise round satire sense shade shine sing smile song soul spirit Spleen style sweet Swift taste tell thee things thou thought thro toil trembling truth turns Twas verse virtue Whig wind wise write youth
Popular passages
Page 321 - The unfeeling for his own. Yet, ah ! why should they know their fate, Since sorrow never comes too late, And happiness too swiftly flies ? Thought would destroy their paradise. No more ; — where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.
Page 532 - November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh ; The short'ning winter-day is near a close ; The miry beasts retreating frae the pleugh ; The black'ning trains o' craws to their repose : The toil-worn Cotter frae his labour goes, This night his weekly moil is at an end, Collects his spades, his mattocks, and his hoes, Hoping the morn in ease and rest to spend, And weary, o'er the moor, his course does hameward bend. At length his lonely cot appears in view, Beneath the shelter of an aged tree ; Th' expectant...
Page 378 - As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.
Page 568 - Guid faith he mauna fa' that. For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities, and a' that ; The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, Are higher rank than a that. Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will for a' that ; That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, May bear the gree, and a' that. For a
Page 607 - In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes ? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire?
Page 553 - Thou ling'ring star, with less'ning ray, That lov'st to greet the early morn, Again thou usher'st in the day My Mary from my soul was torn. O Mary! dear departed shade! Where is thy place of blissful rest? Seest thou thy lover lowly laid? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?
Page 332 - Await alike the inevitable hour: — The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or flattery soothe the dull cold ear of Death...
Page 604 - Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me: "Pipe a song about a Lamb!' So I piped with merry cheer. 'Piper, pipe that song again;
Page 290 - twas wild. But thou, O Hope ! with eyes so fair, What was thy delighted measure...
Page 332 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn Or busy housewife ply her evening care : No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke ; How jocund did they drive their team afield ! How...