Lectures on the English PoetsTaylor and Hessey, 1818 - 331 pages |
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Page 12
... springs of thought and feeling into play with tenfold force . Impassioned poetry is an emanation of the moral and intellectual part of our nature , as well as of the sensitive - of the desire to know , the will to act , and the power to ...
... springs of thought and feeling into play with tenfold force . Impassioned poetry is an emanation of the moral and intellectual part of our nature , as well as of the sensitive - of the desire to know , the will to act , and the power to ...
Page 23
... spring ; So towards old Sylvanus they her bring , Who with the noise awaked , cometh out . " Faery Queen , b . i . c . vi . On the contrary , there is nothing either musical or natural in the ordinary construction of language . It is a ...
... spring ; So towards old Sylvanus they her bring , Who with the noise awaked , cometh out . " Faery Queen , b . i . c . vi . On the contrary , there is nothing either musical or natural in the ordinary construction of language . It is a ...
Page 25
... springs are to a carriage , or wings to feet . In ordinary speech we Į arrive at a certain harmony by the modulations of voice in poetry the same thing is done systemati- cally by a regular collocation of syllables . It has been well ...
... springs are to a carriage , or wings to feet . In ordinary speech we Į arrive at a certain harmony by the modulations of voice in poetry the same thing is done systemati- cally by a regular collocation of syllables . It has been well ...
Page 53
... spring ; ' His vois was as a trompe thondering . Upon his hed he wered of laurer grene A gerlond freshe and lusty for to sene . Upon his hond he bare for his deduit An egle tame , as any lily whit.- About this king ther ran on every ...
... spring ; ' His vois was as a trompe thondering . Upon his hed he wered of laurer grene A gerlond freshe and lusty for to sene . Upon his hond he bare for his deduit An egle tame , as any lily whit.- About this king ther ran on every ...
Page 56
... spring . Nature is the soul of art : there is a strength as well as a simplicity in the imagination that reposes entirely on nature , that nothing else can supply . It was the same trust in nature , and reliance on his subject , which ...
... spring . Nature is the soul of art : there is a strength as well as a simplicity in the imagination that reposes entirely on nature , that nothing else can supply . It was the same trust in nature , and reliance on his subject , which ...
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Common terms and phrases
admirable affectation allegory appear Ballads beauty Beggar's Opera blank verse Boccaccio character Chaucer common Cutty Sark death delight describes doth equal excellence face Faery Queen fame fancy feeling finest flowers genius gives Gonne grace Gulliver's Travels happy hates hath heart heaven Herbert Croft hire Homer human idea images imagination interest kind Knight's Tale labour language less light lines living look Lord Lord Byron Lyrical Ballads manners Milton mind moral Muse nature never o'er objects painted passion pathos persons pleasure poem poet poetical poetry Pope praise prose racter reader rhyme satire scene sense sentiment Shakspeare Shanter shew song soul sound Spenser spirit spring story style sweet ther thing thou thought tion Titian tree truth verse Whan wings wolde words Wordsworth writer wyllowe-tree youth
Popular passages
Page 328 - Each spake words of high disdain And insult to his heart's best brother: They parted — ne'er to meet again! But never either found another To free the hollow heart from paining — They stood aloof, the scars remaining, Like cliffs which had been rent asunder A dreary sea now flows between ; — But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder, Shall wholly do away, I ween, The marks of that which once hath been.
Page 123 - And ever, against eating cares, Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse, Such as the meeting soul may pierce, In notes with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out With wanton heed and giddy cunning, The melting voice through mazes running, Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony; That Orpheus...
Page 305 - Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spread But as the marigold at the sun's eye; And in themselves their pride lies buried, For at a frown they in their glory die. The painful warrior famoused for fight, After a thousand victories once foil'd, Is from the book of honour razed quite, And all the rest forgot for which he toil'd.
Page 145 - Tis with our judgments as our watches, none Go just alike, yet each believes his own.
Page 10 - Farewell the tranquil mind ! Farewell content ! Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars, That make ambition virtue ! O, farewell ! Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, The royal banner ; and all quality. Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war ! And O, you mortal engines, whose rude throats The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit, Farewell ! Othello's occupation's gone ! lago.
Page 126 - What though the field be lost? All is not lost; the unconquerable will, And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to submit or yield: And what is else not to be overcome?
Page 114 - ... devout prayer to that eternal Spirit, who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his seraphim, with the hallowed fire of his altar, to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases...
Page 185 - Just earns a scanty pittance, and at night Lies down secure, her heart and pocket light ; She for her humble sphere by nature fit, Has little understanding, and no wit, Receives no praise, but (though her lot be such, Toilsome and indigent) she renders much ; Just knows, and knows no more, her bible true, A truth the brilliant Frenchman never knew, And in that charter reads, with sparkling eyes, Her title to a treasure in the skies.
Page 228 - tis madness to defer: Next day the fatal precedent will plead ; Thus on, till wisdom is push'd out of life. Procrastination is the thief of time ; Year after year it steals, till all are fled, And to the mercies of a moment leaves The vast concerns of an eternal scene.
Page 153 - ... In the worst inn's worst room, with mat half -hung, The floors of plaster, and the walls of dung, On once a flock-bed, but repaired with straw, With tape-tied curtains never meant to draw, The George and Garter dangling from that bed Where tawdry yellow strove with dirty red, Great Villiers lies — alas ! how changed from him, That life of pleasure, and that soul of whim ! Gallant and gay, in Cliveden's proud alcove, The bower of wanton Shrewsbury and love ; Or just as gay at council, in a ring...