The English Poets: Selections with Critical Introductions, Volume 2Thomas Humphry Ward Macmillan, 1905 - English poetry |
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Page 92
... soon amended . Philarete . See'st thou not , in clearest days , Oft thick fogs cloud Heaven's rays ; And that vapours which do breathe From the earth's gross womb beneath , Seem not to us with black steams To pollute the sun's bright ...
... soon amended . Philarete . See'st thou not , in clearest days , Oft thick fogs cloud Heaven's rays ; And that vapours which do breathe From the earth's gross womb beneath , Seem not to us with black steams To pollute the sun's bright ...
Page 129
... soon drove men of taste to the rigid use of the heroic couplet only . Herrick , however , avoided this capital offence against artistic harmony . His measures are many of them his own , and show great ingenuity , but they are all , or ...
... soon drove men of taste to the rigid use of the heroic couplet only . Herrick , however , avoided this capital offence against artistic harmony . His measures are many of them his own , and show great ingenuity , but they are all , or ...
Page 135
... soon things have Their end , though ne'er so brave : And after they have shown their pride , Like you , a - while , -they glide Into the grave . TO PRIMROSES FILLED WITH MORNING Dew . Why do ye weep , sweet babes ? can tears Speak grief ...
... soon things have Their end , though ne'er so brave : And after they have shown their pride , Like you , a - while , -they glide Into the grave . TO PRIMROSES FILLED WITH MORNING Dew . Why do ye weep , sweet babes ? can tears Speak grief ...
Page 136
... soon ; As yet the early - rising sun Has not attain'd his noon . Stay , stay , Until the hasting day Has run But to the even - song ; And , having pray'd together , we Will go with you along . We have short time to stay , as you ; We ...
... soon ; As yet the early - rising sun Has not attain'd his noon . Stay , stay , Until the hasting day Has run But to the even - song ; And , having pray'd together , we Will go with you along . We have short time to stay , as you ; We ...
Page 149
... soon , too dear did Jephthah buy , By thy sad loss , our liberty ; His was the bond and cov'nant , yet Thou paid'st the debt ; Lamented Maid ! he won the day : But for the conquest thou didst pay . Thy father brought with him along The ...
... soon , too dear did Jephthah buy , By thy sad loss , our liberty ; His was the bond and cov'nant , yet Thou paid'st the debt ; Lamented Maid ! he won the day : But for the conquest thou didst pay . Thy father brought with him along The ...
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Common terms and phrases
Absalom and Achitophel Æneid beauty Ben Jonson born breast breath bright Carew Castara Catullus Comus conceits Cowley Crashaw crown death delight died dost doth Dryden earth EDMUND W English eternal eyes fair fame fancy fate fear fire flame flowers genius Giles Fletcher glory grace Habington hand happy hast hath heart heaven hell Herbert heroic couplet Herrick Hesperides hill honour Hudibras Jonson King kiss Lady light live Lord Lycidas Milton mind mistress Muse nature never night o'er once Paradise Paradise Lost Paradise Regained passion Perilla pleasure poems poet poetic poetry praise rhyme rose sacred satire shade shepherds shine sigh sight sing sleep song sonnet soul spirit stars sweet tears thee thine things thought unto verse Waller wanton weep WILLIAM HABINGTON winds wings Wither write youth
Popular passages
Page 218 - Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill ; But their strong nerves at last must yield ; They tame but one another still : Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath, When they, poor captives, creep to death.
Page 218 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Page 204 - I should (said He) Bestow this jewel also on My creature, He would adore My gifts instead of Me, And rest in nature, not the God of nature : So both should losers be. Yet let him keep the rest, But keep them with repining restlessness : Let him be rich and weary, that at least, If goodness lead him not, yet weariness May toss him to My breast.
Page 455 - A daring pilot in extremity, Pleased with the danger, when the waves went high, He sought the storms ; but, for a calm unfit, Would steer too nigh the sands to boast his wit.
Page 301 - I am now indebted, as being a work not to be raised from the heat of youth, or the vapours of wine, like that which flows at waste from the pen of some vulgar amourist, or the trencher fury of a rhyming parasite ; nor to be obtained by the invocation of dame Memory and her siren daughters ; but by 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 - Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage; If I have freedom in my love And in my soul am free, Angels alone, that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.
Page 178 - Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale? Why so dull and mute, young sinner? Prithee, why so mute? Will, when speaking well can't win her, Saying nothing do't? Prithee, why so mute? Quit, quit, for shame, this will not move: This cannot take her. If of herself she will not love, Nothing can make her: The devil take her!
Page 319 - Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment? Sure something holy lodges in that breast, And with these raptures moves the vocal air To testify his hidden residence.
Page 326 - Weep no more, woeful shepherds, weep no more, For Lycidas, your sorrow, is not dead, Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor. So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore Flames in the forehead of the morning sky...
Page 328 - AVENGE, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold; Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old, When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones, Forget not; in thy book record their groans Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that rolled Mother with infant down the rocks.