Conversations on Poetry:: Intended for the Amusement and Instruction of Children |
From inside the book
Page 5
Clara C . was one day walking with her father in the fields ' near their own house ;
it was a fine morning in May ; the sun shone with unusual brightness ; the little
choristers of the grove warbled songs of gratitude and praise ; and Clara ...
Clara C . was one day walking with her father in the fields ' near their own house ;
it was a fine morning in May ; the sun shone with unusual brightness ; the little
choristers of the grove warbled songs of gratitude and praise ; and Clara ...
Page 13
said Clara . “ I hope I shall never again be at a loss to comprehend any metaphor
, papa . Mrs . Barbauld designates Summer under the figure of a female clad in a
light transparent garment ; whose breath is hot and sultry ; who seeks the ...
said Clara . “ I hope I shall never again be at a loss to comprehend any metaphor
, papa . Mrs . Barbauld designates Summer under the figure of a female clad in a
light transparent garment ; whose breath is hot and sultry ; who seeks the ...
Page 35
You see , papa , that I understand all this , ” said Clara , after having given a
concise explanation of the lines she had repeated . « Ah , ” said the little arch
Rosina , “ how could you help understanding what every body , who has common
sense ...
You see , papa , that I understand all this , ” said Clara , after having given a
concise explanation of the lines she had repeated . « Ah , ” said the little arch
Rosina , “ how could you help understanding what every body , who has common
sense ...
Page 95
Thus you have this morning walked over classic ground , ” continued Mr . C . , “
ground once familiar to Milton , the most consummate scholar of his time , as well
as the finest epic poet our country ever produced ; a poet , Clara , whose name is
...
Thus you have this morning walked over classic ground , ” continued Mr . C . , “
ground once familiar to Milton , the most consummate scholar of his time , as well
as the finest epic poet our country ever produced ; a poet , Clara , whose name is
...
Page 96
Clara inquired whether the poetry , descriptive of rural life , such , for instance , as
that her father had repeated , was classed under any particular head , or merely
ranked under the general term descriptive . “ Poetry which exhibits the ...
Clara inquired whether the poetry , descriptive of rural life , such , for instance , as
that her father had repeated , was classed under any particular head , or merely
ranked under the general term descriptive . “ Poetry which exhibits the ...
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Common terms and phrases
admire ages amuse appear beautiful become BOOKS bright calculated called charms Clara composition continued conversation convey Copper-plates dear delightful describe didactic draw employed epic poetry excelled existed expression fact fancy father favourite fields figurative flowers fond girl give green half bound hand happiness heard Helen hero hill imagination instruction invention kind knowledge language least light lines lively look Maria Mary mean ment metaphor mind morning mountain moving nature never o'er objects papa particularly pastoral plain Plates pleasures poem poetical poetry poets prefer present prose remarks repeat rise Rosina rural scene seems simple sister society song spring style suppose sure sweets tell term thee thing thou tion travellers trees true truth turning understand verse walk wonder writing young
Popular passages
Page 34 - Tis now become a history little known, That once we called the pastoral house our own. Short-lived possession ! but the record fair, That memory keeps of all thy kindness there, Still outlives many a storm, that has effaced A thousand other themes less deeply traced.
Page 33 - I less deplored thee, ne'er forgot. Where once we dwelt our name is heard no more, Children not thine have trod my nursery floor ; And where the gardener Robin, day by day, Drew me to school along the public way, Delighted with my bauble coach, and wrapped In scarlet mantle warm, and velvet capped, Tis now become a history little known, That once we called the pastoral house our own.
Page 95 - To hear the lark begin his flight And singing startle the dull night From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn doth rise; Then to come, in spite of sorrow, And at my window bid good-morrow Through the sweetbriar, or the vine, Or the twisted eglantine...
Page 33 - I heard the bell toll'd' on thy burial day, I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away, And, turning from my nursery window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu ! But was it such ? — It was.
Page 127 - Delightful task ! to rear the tender thought, To teach the young idea how to shoot, To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind, To breathe th' enlivening spirit, and to fix The generous purpose in the glowing breast.
Page 34 - I would not trust my heart — the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might. But no...
Page 92 - Where the great Sun begins his state Robed in flames and amber light, The clouds in thousand liveries dight; While the ploughman, near at hand, Whistles o'er the furrowed land, And the milkmaid singeth blithe, And the mower whets his scythe, And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Page 125 - He knew his lord ; he knew, and strove to meet ; In vain he strove to crawl and kiss his feet ; Yet (all he could) his tail, his ears, his eyes, Salute his master, and confess his joys.
Page 27 - ... wood, — To thy protecting shade she runs, Thy tender buds supply her food ; Her young forsake her downy plumes To rest upon thy opening blooms. Flower of the desert though thou art ! The deer that range the mountain free, The graceful doe, the stately hart, Their food and shelter seek from thee ; The bee thy earliest blossom greets, And draws from thee her choicest sweets. Gem of the heath ! whose modest bloom Sheds beauty o'er the lonely moor : Though thou dispense no rich perfume, Nor yet...
Page 124 - Thus, near the gates conferring as they drew, Argus, the dog, his ancient master knew: He not unconscious of the voice and tread, Lifts to the sound his ear, and rears his head; Bred by Ulysses, nourish'd at his board, But, ah!