English Language and Literary Criticism: English poetryPotter, 1882 - English language |
From inside the book
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Page vi
... Flower and the Leaf - The Book of the Duchess , and Chaucer's Dream - The House of Fame - William Dunbar's The Thistle and the Rose - The Golden Terge - Dance of the Deadly Sins - Stephen Hawes - Grand Amour and la Bel Pucell ...
... Flower and the Leaf - The Book of the Duchess , and Chaucer's Dream - The House of Fame - William Dunbar's The Thistle and the Rose - The Golden Terge - Dance of the Deadly Sins - Stephen Hawes - Grand Amour and la Bel Pucell ...
Page 71
... flowers ever blossom , the beams ever shine ; Where the light wings of Zephyr oppressed with perfume Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gul in her bloom ; Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit , And the voice of the nightingale ...
... flowers ever blossom , the beams ever shine ; Where the light wings of Zephyr oppressed with perfume Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gul in her bloom ; Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit , And the voice of the nightingale ...
Page 75
... flower , But ' twas the first to fade away . I never nursed a dear gazelle , To glad me with its soft black eye , But when it came to know me well , And love me , it was sure to die ! Now , too , -the joy most like divine Of POETICAL ...
... flower , But ' twas the first to fade away . I never nursed a dear gazelle , To glad me with its soft black eye , But when it came to know me well , And love me , it was sure to die ! Now , too , -the joy most like divine Of POETICAL ...
Page 76
... flowers where he had laid his head , And down upon the fragrant sod Kneels , with his forehead to the south , Lisping the eternal name of God From purity's own cherub mouth , And looking , while his hands and eyes Are lifted to the ...
... flowers where he had laid his head , And down upon the fragrant sod Kneels , with his forehead to the south , Lisping the eternal name of God From purity's own cherub mouth , And looking , while his hands and eyes Are lifted to the ...
Page 82
... Complaint of the Blacke Knight are plainly imitations of French models . In The Court of Love , The Cuckow and the Nightingale , The Flower * Taine . Vol I. and the Leaf , and The House of Fame , 82 ENGLISH LITERATURE .
... Complaint of the Blacke Knight are plainly imitations of French models . In The Court of Love , The Cuckow and the Nightingale , The Flower * Taine . Vol I. and the Leaf , and The House of Fame , 82 ENGLISH LITERATURE .
Common terms and phrases
Absalom and Achitophel allegory ancient Anglo-Saxon ballads beauty Ben Jonson blank verse Byron called Canterbury Tales Canto century character Chaucer comedy critic death delight didactic doth drama dream Dryden eclogue Edition England English language English Literature English Poetry epic eyes Faerie Queene fair fancy flowers French genius hath Hazlitt heart heaven hero Hudibras humor hymns imagination imitation John John Dryden King lady language legend literary live Lord Lycidas manner merit Milton Mirror for Magistrates nature never night o'er Paradise Lost passages passion pastoral play pleasure poem poet poetical Pope popular prose published queen reader rhyme romances satire says scene Shakspeare Shakspeare's sing song soul Spenser spirit stanzas story student style sweet Taine Tale thee things thou thought tion tragedy translation Trouvères verse versification wonderful words writing written
Popular passages
Page 386 - 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 : ' So I piped ; he wept to hear.
Page 359 - Those are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were slain And unburied remain Inglorious on the plain : Give the vengeance due To the valiant crew ! Behold how they toss their torches on high, How they point to the Persian abodes And glittering temples of their hostile gods.
Page 545 - IT WAS many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of ANNABEL LEE; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me.
Page 313 - Only with speeches fair She woos the gentle air To hide her guilty front with innocent snow, And on her naked shame, Pollute with sinful blame, The saintly veil of maiden white to throw; Confounded, that her Maker's eyes Should look so near upon her foul deformities.
Page 375 - The breath whose might I have invoked in song Descends on me ; my spirit's bark is driven Far from the shore, far from the trembling throng Whose sails were never to the tempest given ; The massy earth and sphered skies are riven ! I am borne darkly, fearfully, afar ; Whilst burning through the inmost veil of Heaven, The soul of Adonais, like a star, Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are.
Page 460 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
Page 544 - or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you" — here I opened wide the door — Darkness there and nothing more.
Page 348 - Her home is on the deep. With thunders from her native oak, She quells the floods below, — As they roar on the shore, When the stormy winds do blow, When the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Page 332 - Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints.
Page 346 - Breathes there the man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land ? Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned, From wandering on a foreign strand ? If such there breathe, go mark him well...