A Study of the Types of LiteratureCentury Company, 1921 - 540ÆäÀÌÁö |
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36 ÆäÀÌÁö
... dead girl's hair , which the harper used as strings for his harp , had the power to tell the story of her murder . Wicked elder sisters , or step - mothers , or mothers - in - law were frequent characters of the ballads . THE CRUEL ...
... dead girl's hair , which the harper used as strings for his harp , had the power to tell the story of her murder . Wicked elder sisters , or step - mothers , or mothers - in - law were frequent characters of the ballads . THE CRUEL ...
40 ÆäÀÌÁö
... O got ye this be sea or land ? Or got ye it off a dead man's hand ? " 19. " I got not it by sea , I got it by land , And I got it , madam , out of your own hand . " 40 O listen , listen , ladies gay ! No haughty 40 NARRATIVE POETRY.
... O got ye this be sea or land ? Or got ye it off a dead man's hand ? " 19. " I got not it by sea , I got it by land , And I got it , madam , out of your own hand . " 40 O listen , listen , ladies gay ! No haughty 40 NARRATIVE POETRY.
44 ÆäÀÌÁö
... dead men's mail , 40 Blazed battlement and pinnet 5 high , Blazed every rose - carved buttress fair- So still they blaze , when fate is nigh The lordly line of high St. Clair . There are twenty of Roslin's barons bold 45 Lie buried ...
... dead men's mail , 40 Blazed battlement and pinnet 5 high , Blazed every rose - carved buttress fair- So still they blaze , when fate is nigh The lordly line of high St. Clair . There are twenty of Roslin's barons bold 45 Lie buried ...
56 ÆäÀÌÁö
... dead man say Look for me by moonlight ; Watch for me by moonlight ; I'll come to thee by moonlight , though hell should bar the way ! IV 55 She twisted her hands behind her , but all the knots held good ! She writhed her hands till her ...
... dead man say Look for me by moonlight ; Watch for me by moonlight ; I'll come to thee by moonlight , though hell should bar the way ! IV 55 She twisted her hands behind her , but all the knots held good ! She writhed her hands till her ...
59 ÆäÀÌÁö
... dead or living . Too fearful to know what he feared , ¬Ò¬à He fumbled at the open shirt And felt till he could feel the heart , - Still beating with a feeble beat : And then he saw the closed lids part , And saw the nostrils quiver ; And ...
... dead or living . Too fearful to know what he feared , ¬Ò¬à He fumbled at the open shirt And felt till he could feel the heart , - Still beating with a feeble beat : And then he saw the closed lids part , And saw the nostrils quiver ; And ...
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Alfred Noyes Alfred Tennyson Anstruther Aylmer Barsad Beowulf British British British British Thomas Carton chapter character Charles Charles Darnay Comus Darnay dead dear death Defarge doth drama earth Elegy England English epic Essay Exeunt eyes father Faustus fear Georgiana Ghost give Guildenstern Hamlet hand hath hear heart heaven Henry Henry Van Dyke Horatio Imitation ballad John John Ruskin King Kipling Lady Laer Laertes literature live look lord Lycidas MacLaurin Madame Defarge madness Markheim metrical romance Metrical tale mind Miscellaneous lit never night novel Ophelia Percy MacKaye play poem poetry Polonius prisoner prose Queen Robert Rosencrantz Rudyard Kipling scene Shakespeare Short-story Short-story Simple lyric sing Song Sonnet soul speech spirit Stevenson story Stryver SUGGESTIONS TO STUDENTS sweet tell thee things thou thought Wilkins-Freeman William Vaughn Moody wind ¥É¥Ï
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467 ÆäÀÌÁö - South this terrible war, as the woe due to those by whom the offence came, shall we discern therein any departure from those divine attributes which the believers in a living God always ascribe to Him? Fondly do we hope, fervently do we pray, that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, if God wills that it continue until all the wealth piled...
218 ÆäÀÌÁö - ... twere, the mirror up to nature ; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time, his form and pressure.
73 ÆäÀÌÁö - Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own ; Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind, And, even with something of a Mother's mind, And no unworthy aim, The homely Nurse doth all she can To make her Foster-child, her Inmate Man, Forget the glories he hath known, And that imperial palace whence he came. Behold the Child among his new-born blisses, A six years...
80 ÆäÀÌÁö - Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce, My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth! And, by the incantation of this verse, Scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind! Be through my lips to unawakened earth The trumpet of a prophecy ! O, Wind, If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?
219 ÆäÀÌÁö - And let those that play your clowns speak no more than is set down for them : for there be of them that will themselves laugh, to set on some" quantity of barren spectators to laugh too ; though, in the mean time, some necessary question of the play be then to be considered : that's villainous, and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it.
340 ÆäÀÌÁö - Read not to contradict and confute, nor to believe and take for granted, nor to find talk and discourse, but to weigh and consider. Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested; that is, some books are to be read only in parts; others to be read, but not curiously; and some few to be read wholly, and with diligence and attention.
94 ÆäÀÌÁö - Bitter constraint and sad occasion dear Compels me to disturb your season due; For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime, Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer. Who would not sing for Lycidas? he knew Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme. He must not float upon his watery bier Unwept, and welter to the parching wind, Without the meed of some melodious tear.
80 ÆäÀÌÁö - Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is: What if my leaves are falling like its own! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce, My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one!
314 ÆäÀÌÁö - The dropping of the daylight in the West, The bough of cherries some officious fool Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule She rode with round the terrace — all and each Would draw from her alike the approving speech, 30 Or blush, at least.
182 ÆäÀÌÁö - Seems, madam ! nay, it is ; I know not ' seems.' Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black, Nor windy suspiration of...