The Chilswell Book of English Poetry |
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Արդյունքներ 20–ի 1-ից 5-ը:
Էջ ii
THE SPIRIT OF MAN An Anthology in English and French from the Philosophers and Poets . Made by the Poet LAUREATE ( Robert Bridges ) in 1915 , and dedicated by gracious permission to His Majesty the King .
THE SPIRIT OF MAN An Anthology in English and French from the Philosophers and Poets . Made by the Poet LAUREATE ( Robert Bridges ) in 1915 , and dedicated by gracious permission to His Majesty the King .
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... who else made no poetic pretence , have good - naturedly composed poems for the young , and in a technique often as ... sentences in which he tells his own early experience.1 ' In this little poem ( he writes ) there were many words ...
... who else made no poetic pretence , have good - naturedly composed poems for the young , and in a technique often as ... sentences in which he tells his own early experience.1 ' In this little poem ( he writes ) there were many words ...
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The conspicuous absence of several famous poets will be easily understood , although their disqualifications are very ... The most of them , if asked their opinion on the merits of some favourite English poem , will tell you that on ...
The conspicuous absence of several famous poets will be easily understood , although their disqualifications are very ... The most of them , if asked their opinion on the merits of some favourite English poem , will tell you that on ...
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... descendants — lest Shakespeare should ever be to them as Homer is to the modern Greeks , more of a pitiful boast than a living glory : and it has been both a credit and profit to us that our nineteenth - century poets stood so high ...
... descendants — lest Shakespeare should ever be to them as Homer is to the modern Greeks , more of a pitiful boast than a living glory : and it has been both a credit and profit to us that our nineteenth - century poets stood so high ...
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS > 6 The Editor and Publishers are very grateful to the living authors who have allowed their poems to be printed in this book ; and they thank them individually for their generosity . They also beg to express their ...
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS > 6 The Editor and Publishers are very grateful to the living authors who have allowed their poems to be printed in this book ; and they thank them individually for their generosity . They also beg to express their ...
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bear beauty beneath birds blow breath bright cloud cold comes dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth eyes face fair fall fear fields fire flowers give glory gone grave green hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hill hour John keep king land leaves less lies light live look Lord loud mind moon morning move Nature never night o'er once pain peace play poem rest Ring rise round Shakespeare ship shore silent sing sleep song soon soul sound spirit Spring stand stars stood stream sweet tears tell thee things thou thou art thought thousand tree true voice waters waves wide wild wind wings woods youth
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Էջ 176 - Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath ; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod.
Էջ 102 - The armaments which thunderstrike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake And monarchs tremble in their capitals, The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee and arbiter of war,— These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the Armada's pride or spoils of Trafalgar.
Էջ 174 - MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, > Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk...
Էջ 85 - For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities, and a' that, The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, Are higher ranks than a' that. Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will for a' that, That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, May bear the gree, and a' that. For a
Էջ 18 - O Captain! My Captain! O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain! my Captain!
Էջ 26 - It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make man better be; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log, at last, dry, bald, and sere: A lily of a day, Is fairer far, in May, Although it fall, and die that night; It was the plant, and flower of light. In small proportions, we just beauties see: And in short measures, life may perfect be.
Էջ 199 - Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful Jollity, Quips, and cranks,* and wanton* wiles, Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek; Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides.
Էջ 203 - Fancy's child, Warble his native wood-notes wild, 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, 140 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...
Էջ 4 - Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain tops that freeze, Bow themselves when he did sing ; To his music plants and flowers Ever sprung, as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring. Every thing that heard him play, Even the billows of the sea, Hung their heads, and then lay by. In sweet music is such art, Killing care and grief of heart Fall asleep, or hearing die.
Էջ 194 - And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.