Six Famous Living Poets: Introductory Studies, Illustrated by Quotation and Comment

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T. Butterworth, Limited, 1922 - 286 páginas

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Página 71 - If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise...
Página 253 - If I should die, think only this of me : That there's some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England.
Página 71 - If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools...
Página 71 - If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings— nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds...
Página 84 - I have eaten your bread and salt, I have drunk your water and wine; The deaths ye died I have watched beside, And the lives that ye led were mine. Was there aught that I did not share In vigil or toil or ease,— One joy or woe that I did not know, Dear hearts across the seas? I have written the tale of our life For a sheltered people's mirth, In jesting guise — but ye are wise, And ye know what the jest is worth.
Página 166 - But everybody said," quoth he, "that 'twas a famous victory. My father lived at Blenheim then, yon little stream hard by; they burnt his dwelling to the ground, and he was forced to fly: so with his wife and child he fled, nor had he where to rest his head.
Página 248 - THE blessed damozel leaned out From the gold bar of Heaven; Her eyes were deeper than the depth Of waters stilled at even; She had three lilies in her hand, And the stars in her hair were seven. Her robe, ungirt from clasp to hem, No wrought flowers did adorn, But a white rose of Mary's gift, For service meetly worn; Her hair that lay along her back Was yellow like ripe corn.
Página 24 - Others may sing of the wine and the wealth and the mirth, The portly presence of potentates goodly in girth ; — Mine be the dirt and the dross, the dust and scum of the earth ! Theirs be the music, the colour, the glory, the gold ; Mine be a handful of ashes, a mouthful of mould. Of the maimed, of the halt and the blind in the rain and the cold — Of these shall my songs be fashioned, my tales be told.
Página 75 - Strayed amid lonely islets, mazed amid outer keys, I waked the palms to laughter — I tossed the scud in the breeze — Never was isle so little, never was sea so lone, But over the scud and the palm-trees an English flag was flown. "I have wrenched it free from the...
Página 68 - Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made By singing: — "Oh, how beautiful!" and sitting in the shade, While better men than we go out and start their working lives At grubbing weeds from gravel-paths with broken dinnerknives.

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