A History of English Literature (600-1900)Methuen & Company, 1902 - 491 pages |
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Page 3
... king's pleasure was the sole or first law of the land . England has been , from time immemorial ( with few deviations , as will be seen from time to time in these pages ) , and still is , the home of free speech , and , above all , of ...
... king's pleasure was the sole or first law of the land . England has been , from time immemorial ( with few deviations , as will be seen from time to time in these pages ) , and still is , the home of free speech , and , above all , of ...
Page 4
... king who had not been dead a hundred years , and in Henry VIII . he portrayed Queen Elizabeth's own father . Compare with this the French stage , on which , till 1793 , not a single piece ventured to touch on the history of its own ...
... king who had not been dead a hundred years , and in Henry VIII . he portrayed Queen Elizabeth's own father . Compare with this the French stage , on which , till 1793 , not a single piece ventured to touch on the history of its own ...
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... king of the Anglo- Saxons " ( Angul - Saxonum Rex ) , but wrongly , for the English were only called Saxons by their Celtic subjects or by other nations , never by their own writers . In the translation of Boethius1 ascribed to King ...
... king of the Anglo- Saxons " ( Angul - Saxonum Rex ) , but wrongly , for the English were only called Saxons by their Celtic subjects or by other nations , never by their own writers . In the translation of Boethius1 ascribed to King ...
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... king mighty , famous , The warriors lamenting , The lief - lord of them ; Began on the burg of bale- Fires the biggest , The warriors to waken : The wood - reek went up Swart over the smoky glow , Sound of the flame Bewound with the ...
... king mighty , famous , The warriors lamenting , The lief - lord of them ; Began on the burg of bale- Fires the biggest , The warriors to waken : The wood - reek went up Swart over the smoky glow , Sound of the flame Bewound with the ...
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... KING ALFRED's prose translation of Boethius's De Consolatione Philosophia . ) " Hit gelamp gio , thætte an hearpere was on there theode the Thracia hatte . Thæs nama was Orpheus . He hæfde an swithe ænlic wif ; sio was haten Eurydice ...
... KING ALFRED's prose translation of Boethius's De Consolatione Philosophia . ) " Hit gelamp gio , thætte an hearpere was on there theode the Thracia hatte . Thæs nama was Orpheus . He hæfde an swithe ænlic wif ; sio was haten Eurydice ...
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amongst appeared artistic Bacon ballads beautiful Ben Jonson Beowulf Burns Byron Canterbury Tales character Chaucer classical comedy contemporaries court Daniel Defoe death Defoe dramatists edition eighteenth century England English drama English language English literature English poetry epic Essay euphuism famous feeling France French genuine German Goethe heart heaven hero Hudibras human humour imitation influence John Jonson Julius Cæsar King Latin letters literary London Lord Lord Byron lyric lyric poetry Marlowe Milton modern moral nature never Norman novel original Paradise Lost passages period piece plays poem poet poet's poetical political Pope popular present day prose Puritanism Queen reader regarded religion religious rhyme Robert Burns romance satire scene seventeenth century Shakespeare Shelley sixteenth century songs sonnets soul Spenser spirit stage stanzas story style thee thou tion tragedy translation verse William Shakespeare words writings written wrote
Fréquemment cités
Page 258 - Thus with the year Seasons return; but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine...
Page 455 - O may I join the choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again In minds made better by their presence : live In pulses stirred to generosity, In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn For miserable aims that end with self, In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, And with their mild persistence urge men's search To vaster issues.
Page 424 - HALF a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. " Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns," he said: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. "Forward, the Light Brigade!
Page 423 - For I dipt into the future, far as human eye could see, Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be ; Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of magic sails, Pilots of the purple twilight, dropping down with costly bales ; Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there rain'da ghastly dew From the- nations...
Page 167 - Soul of the age, The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage ; My Shakespeare, rise ! I will not lodge thee by Chaucer, or Spenser ; or bid Beaumont lie A little further, to make thee a room ; Thou art a monument without a tomb ; And art alive still, while thy book doth live, And we have wits to read and praise to give.
Page 214 - EVEN such is time, that takes in trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, And pays us but with earth and dust; Who, in the dark and silent grave, When we have wandered all our ways, Shuts up the story of our days; But from this earth, this grave, this dust, My God shall raise me up, I trust!
Page 395 - O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed; Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral! When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, "Beauty is truth, truth beauty," — that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
Page 224 - With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies ; How silently ; and with how wan a face ! What ! may it be, that even in heavenly place That busy Archer his sharp arrows tries ? Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case ; I read it in thy looks ; thy languisht grace To me, that feel the like, thy state descries...
Page 162 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears ; soft stillness, and the night, Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica : Look, how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines' of bright gold; There's not the smallest orb, which thou behold'st, But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubins : Such harmony is in immortal souls ; But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close...
Page 413 - Loop up her tresses Escaped from the comb, Her fair auburn tresses; Whilst wonderment guesses, Where was her home ? Who was her father? Who was her mother? Had she a sister? Had she a brother?