The English Poets: Wordsworth to DobellThomas Humphry Ward Macmillan and Company, 1894 - English poetry |
From inside the book
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Page 2
... feel , and therefore to become more actively and securely virtuous , ' - this is his own account of the purpose of his poetry . ( Letter to Lady Beaumont , May , 1807. ) He has given the same account in the Preface to The Excursion ...
... feel , and therefore to become more actively and securely virtuous , ' - this is his own account of the purpose of his poetry . ( Letter to Lady Beaumont , May , 1807. ) He has given the same account in the Preface to The Excursion ...
Page 9
... feel that there was as much worthy of a poet's serious art in the agonies of the mother of the Idiot Boy , and the terrors of Peter Bell , as in the ' majestic pains ' of Laodamia and Dion . He has summed up his poetical doctrine with ...
... feel that there was as much worthy of a poet's serious art in the agonies of the mother of the Idiot Boy , and the terrors of Peter Bell , as in the ' majestic pains ' of Laodamia and Dion . He has summed up his poetical doctrine with ...
Page 10
... feeling with profound thought : the fine balance of truth in observing , with the imaginative faculty in modifying ... feels the riddle of the worla , and may help to unravel it . To carry on the feelings of childhood into the powers of ...
... feeling with profound thought : the fine balance of truth in observing , with the imaginative faculty in modifying ... feels the riddle of the worla , and may help to unravel it . To carry on the feelings of childhood into the powers of ...
Page 11
... feeling which was not genuine and natural , any sentiment or impulse short of or beyond the actual impression which caused them , so with the most jealous strictness he measured his words . He gave them their full swing if they answered ...
... feeling which was not genuine and natural , any sentiment or impulse short of or beyond the actual impression which caused them , so with the most jealous strictness he measured his words . He gave them their full swing if they answered ...
Page 17
... feel , where'er they be , Against or with our will . Nor less I deem that there are Powers Which of themselves our minds impress ; That we can feed this mind of ours In a wise passiveness . Think you , ' mid all this mighty sum Of ...
... feel , where'er they be , Against or with our will . Nor less I deem that there are Powers Which of themselves our minds impress ; That we can feed this mind of ours In a wise passiveness . Think you , ' mid all this mighty sum Of ...
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Common terms and phrases
Artemidora ballads beauty beneath blank verse breast breath bright Byron Camelot cloud cold Coleridge County Guy dark dead dear death deep delight doth dream earth EDWARD DOWDEN Emily Brontë English eyes face fair fear feel flowers friends gaze grace grave green hand happy Hartley Coleridge hast hath hear heard heart heaven hills hour human Keats King Arthur lady Lady of Shalott light live lonely look Lyrical Ballads Matthew Arnold mind moon morn mortal mountains nature never night o'er once passion poems poet poetic poetry rose round Samian wine shadow Shelley sigh silent sing Sir Bedivere sleep smile song sonnet sorrow soul spirit stars stood stream sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought thro trees truth Twas verse voice wandering waves weary wild wind Wordsworth youth
Popular passages
Page 823 - SUNSET and evening star, And one clear call for me. And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark: And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark; For tho...
Page 28 - SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love. A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye ! — Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me...
Page 57 - mid work of his own hand he lies, Fretted by sallies of his mother's kisses, With light upon him from his father's eyes! See, at his feet, some little plan or chart, Some fragment from his dream of human life, Shaped by himself with newly-learned art; A wedding or a festival, A mourning or a funeral; And this hath now his heart, And unto this he frames his song; Then will he fit his tongue To dialogues of business, love, or strife; But it will not be long Ere this be thrown aside, And with new joy...
Page 324 - NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning.
Page 42 - Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides. Will no one tell me what she sings ? Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow For old, unhappy, far-off things, And battles long ago : Or is it some more humble lay, Familiar matter of to-day ? Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, That has been, and may be again ? Whate'er the theme, the maiden sang As if her song could have no ending ; I saw her singing at her work, And o'er the sickle bending ; I listened, motionless and still ; And, as I mounted...
Page 792 - OH yet we trust that somehow good Will be the final goal of ill, To pangs of nature, sins of will, Defects of doubt, and taints of blood ; That nothing walks with aimless feet ; That not one life shall be destroy' d, Or cast as rubbish to the void, When God hath made the pile complete...
Page 790 - TEARS, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more. Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge ; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
Page 22 - Nature never did betray The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege, Through all the years of this our life, to lead From joy to joy: for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold Is...
Page 284 - Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean — roll ! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin — his control Stops with the shore ; — upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy...
Page 57 - 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 newborn blisses, A six years