Chambers's Cyclopædia of English Literature: A History, Critical and Biographical, of British Authors, with Specimens of Their Writings, Volume 2Robert Chambers, Robert Carruthers W. & R. Chambers, 1876 - American literature |
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Page 12
... soon replied : ' I do admire Of womankind but one , And you are she , my dearest dear ; Therefore it shall be done . ' I am a linen - draper bold , As all the world doth know , And my good friend the calender Will lend his horse to go ...
... soon replied : ' I do admire Of womankind but one , And you are she , my dearest dear ; Therefore it shall be done . ' I am a linen - draper bold , As all the world doth know , And my good friend the calender Will lend his horse to go ...
Page 13
... soon a smoother road Beneath his well - shod feet , The snorting beast began to trot , Which galled him in his seat . So , ' Fair and softly , ' John he cried , But John he cried in vain ; That trot became a gallop soon , In spite of ...
... soon a smoother road Beneath his well - shod feet , The snorting beast began to trot , Which galled him in his seat . So , ' Fair and softly , ' John he cried , But John he cried in vain ; That trot became a gallop soon , In spite of ...
Page 14
... soon did meet John coming back amain ! Whom in a trice he tried to stop , By catching at his rein ; But , not performing what he meant , And gladly would have done , The frighted steed he frighted more , And made him faster run . Away ...
... soon did meet John coming back amain ! Whom in a trice he tried to stop , By catching at his rein ; But , not performing what he meant , And gladly would have done , The frighted steed he frighted more , And made him faster run . Away ...
Page 18
... Soon hears his listening son the welcome sounds , With open arms and sparkling eye he bounds : Speak low , ' he cries , and gives his little hand , ' Mamma's asleep upon the dew - cold sand ; ' Poor weeping babe , with bloody fingers ...
... Soon hears his listening son the welcome sounds , With open arms and sparkling eye he bounds : Speak low , ' he cries , and gives his little hand , ' Mamma's asleep upon the dew - cold sand ; ' Poor weeping babe , with bloody fingers ...
Page 22
... soon it must - may that blest Power Who beamed on thine , illume my parting hour ! So shall I greet thee where no ills annoy , And what was sown in grief is reaped in joy : Where worth , obscured below , bursts into day , And those are ...
... soon it must - may that blest Power Who beamed on thine , illume my parting hour ! So shall I greet thee where no ills annoy , And what was sown in grief is reaped in joy : Where worth , obscured below , bursts into day , And those are ...
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Chambers's Cyclopædia of English Literature: A History, Critical ..., Volume 1 Robert Chambers,Robert Carruthers No preview available - 2018 |
Common terms and phrases
admiration afterwards ancient appeared beauty born breath bright Burns Byron caliph character Charles Lamb charm clouds dark dear death deep delight died earth Edinburgh Edinburgh Review edition England English eyes fair fancy father fear feeling flowers frae French Revolution genius grave green hand happy Harriet Lee hath heard heart heaven hill honour hope hour Italy John labour lady Lady Morgan light literary live look Lord Lord Byron MATTHEW GREGORY LEWIS mind moral morning mountain native nature never night novel o'er passion poem poet poetical poetry published round says scene Scotland Scott Scottish seemed shew Sir Walter Scott sleep smile song soon soul Southey spirit style sweet tale taste tears thee thou thought tion Twas Vathek verse voice volumes wandering Whig wild William wind writing wrote young youth
Popular passages
Page 64 - 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 65 - Is lightened : — that serene and blessed mood, In which the affections gently lead us on. — Until, the breath of this corporeal frame And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul : While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things.
Page 140 - Homer ruled as his demesne : Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: — Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific — and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise — Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
Page 134 - Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know, • Such harmonious madness From my lips would flow, The world should listen then, as I am listening now.
Page 126 - 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 deed, nor doth remain...
Page 139 - And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel ; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease ; For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells.
Page 142 - 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 142 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him ; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him.
Page 142 - Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ; But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him ! But half of our heavy task was done When the clock struck the hour for retiring, And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing. Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.
Page 155 - Ben Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said, "What writest thou?" — The vision raised its head, And, with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, " The names of those who love the Lord." "And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so," Replied the angel. — Abou spoke more low, But cheerily still; and said, " I pray thee, then, Write me as one that loves his fellow-men.