British Classical Authors. Select Specimens of the National Literature of England and America, with Biographical Sketches and an Historical Outline of English Literature. Poetry and ProseGeorge Westermann, 1885 |
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xxxix ÆäÀÌÁö
... Tears of Scotland ; and when several well - meaning friends pointed out to him the danger of publishing them , far from taking their ad- vice , he added a seventh still more vigor- ous stanza , and then fearlessly gave his poem to the ...
... Tears of Scotland ; and when several well - meaning friends pointed out to him the danger of publishing them , far from taking their ad- vice , he added a seventh still more vigor- ous stanza , and then fearlessly gave his poem to the ...
xlviii ÆäÀÌÁö
... tear at this moment shed . ' The beautiful songs : ' She is far from the land , ' and ' When he who adores thee , ' re- fer to Sarah Curran , young Emmet's be- trothed , whose sad history is told by Washington Irving under the title of ...
... tear at this moment shed . ' The beautiful songs : ' She is far from the land , ' and ' When he who adores thee , ' re- fer to Sarah Curran , young Emmet's be- trothed , whose sad history is told by Washington Irving under the title of ...
8 ÆäÀÌÁö
... tears to shed . ON SHAKESPEARE ; WHO FOR A TIME HAD CEASED WRITING . And he , the man whom Nature self had made To mock herself , and Truth to imitate With kindly counter , under mimic shade , Our pleasant Willy , ah ! is dead of late ...
... tears to shed . ON SHAKESPEARE ; WHO FOR A TIME HAD CEASED WRITING . And he , the man whom Nature self had made To mock herself , and Truth to imitate With kindly counter , under mimic shade , Our pleasant Willy , ah ! is dead of late ...
18 ÆäÀÌÁö
... tears , yea life and soul . Oh , he stays my tongue : I would lift up my hands , but see , they hold ' em , they ... tear me in pieces if I named God ; to fetch me body and soul if I once gave ear to divinity , and now it is too late ...
... tears , yea life and soul . Oh , he stays my tongue : I would lift up my hands , but see , they hold ' em , they ... tear me in pieces if I named God ; to fetch me body and soul if I once gave ear to divinity , and now it is too late ...
23 ÆäÀÌÁö
... tear thee 340 Boling . O , let For me , if I be gor'd with Mowbray's spear . As confident as is the falcon's flight Against a bird do I with Mowbray fight .-- My loving lord , ( to Lord Marshal ] I take my leave of you ; Of you , my ...
... tear thee 340 Boling . O , let For me , if I be gor'd with Mowbray's spear . As confident as is the falcon's flight Against a bird do I with Mowbray fight .-- My loving lord , ( to Lord Marshal ] I take my leave of you ; Of you , my ...
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appeared arms Ben Jonson blood Boling Bolingbroke breath called Calmar captain Charles Chaucer cried dark daughter dear death doth duke duke of Hereford earl earth England English eyes fair father Faulkl Faulkland fear fire gentleman Ghost give hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven Hengo honour hope Jack Pickersgill Jacob Marley king lady land light live look Lord Malaprop ment mind Monmouth morning nature never night noble Northumberland o'er once Ossulton Pickersgill pleasure poem poet poor prince Queen replied Rich Rienzi round Scotland Scrooge Shakespeare Sir Lucius sleep soon soul spirit stood sweet sword tears tell thee thing thou thought Tiny Tim tion Twas uncle uncle Toby voice wild wind words young Zounds
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273 ÆäÀÌÁö - Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply: And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die. For who, to dumb Forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er...
600 ÆäÀÌÁö - Tis of the wave and not the rock; 'Tis but the flapping of the sail, And not a rent made by the gale ! In spite of rock and tempest's roar, In spite of false lights on the shore. Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea! Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee.
381 ÆäÀÌÁö - All the earth and air With thy voice is loud, As, when night is bare, From one lonely cloud The moon rains out her beams, and Heaven is overflowed.
273 ÆäÀÌÁö - E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, 'Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn...
277 ÆäÀÌÁö - Sweet smiling village, loveliest of the lawn, Thy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn ; Amidst thy bowers the tyrant's hand is seen, /And desolation saddens all thy green : One only master grasps the whole domain, , And half a tillage stints thy smiling plain...
54 ÆäÀÌÁö - tis his will : Let but the commons hear this testament, (Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read) And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds, And dip their napkins in his sacred blood ; Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy, Unto their issue.
54 ÆäÀÌÁö - Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And, sure, he is an honourable man. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, But here I am to speak what I do know. You all did love him once, not without cause; What cause withholds you then to mourn for him ? O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason! — Bear with me; My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar, And I must pause, till it come back to me.
380 ÆäÀÌÁö - And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride; And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as the spray of the rock/beating surf. And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail; And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
411 ÆäÀÌÁö - Awake, my soul ! not only passive praise Thou owest ! not alone these swelling tears, Mute thanks and secret ecstasy ! Awake, Voice of sweet song ! Awake, my Heart, awake ! Green vales and icy cliffs, all join my Hymn.
600 ÆäÀÌÁö - Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart — Go forth, under the open sky, and list To nature's teachings, while from all around — Earth and her waters, and the depths of air — Comes a still voice...