The English Poets: Addison to BlakeThomas Humphry Ward Macmillan and Company, 1880 |
Dentro del libro
Resultados 1-5 de 84
Página vi
... Death of Dr. Swift ALEXANDER POPE ( 1688-1744 ) Extract from The Essay on Criticism The Rape of the Lock , Canto II " " " Canto III Extract from The Iliad , Book VIII Elegy to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady Extracts from the Essay on ...
... Death of Dr. Swift ALEXANDER POPE ( 1688-1744 ) Extract from The Essay on Criticism The Rape of the Lock , Canto II " " " Canto III Extract from The Iliad , Book VIII Elegy to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady Extracts from the Essay on ...
Página vii
... Death of Friends , from Night III Aspiration , from Night IV The Stream of Life , from Night V · 191 • 192 194 . 197 203 Austin Dobson Prof. E. Dowden 206 210 · 214 George Saintsbury 217 219 · 219 221 George Saintsbury 222 • 225 . 225 ...
... Death of Friends , from Night III Aspiration , from Night IV The Stream of Life , from Night V · 191 • 192 194 . 197 203 Austin Dobson Prof. E. Dowden 206 210 · 214 George Saintsbury 217 219 · 219 221 George Saintsbury 222 • 225 . 225 ...
Página viii
... The Passions Ode on the Death of Mr. Thomson • 287 289 292 · An Ode on the Popular Superstitions of the Highlands of Scotland Dirge in Cymbeline · 294 • 300 THOMAS GRAY ( 1716-1771 ) • Ode on the Spring viii CONTENTS ..
... The Passions Ode on the Death of Mr. Thomson • 287 289 292 · An Ode on the Popular Superstitions of the Highlands of Scotland Dirge in Cymbeline · 294 • 300 THOMAS GRAY ( 1716-1771 ) • Ode on the Spring viii CONTENTS ..
Página x
... Death of Mrs. Throckmorton's Bullfinch The Acquiescence of Pure Love On the Receipt of My Mother's Picture The Poplar Field To Mary · PAGE · 414 · 417 . 419 • 419 The Editor 422 . 434 438 441 446 · 447 453 · 454 · 454 456 · 457 · 459 ...
... Death of Mrs. Throckmorton's Bullfinch The Acquiescence of Pure Love On the Receipt of My Mother's Picture The Poplar Field To Mary · PAGE · 414 · 417 . 419 • 419 The Editor 422 . 434 438 441 446 · 447 453 · 454 · 454 456 · 457 · 459 ...
Página xi
... Death and Dying Words of Poor Mailie , the Author's only Pet Yowe . Extract from An Epistle to John Lapraik , an old Scottish Bard To a Mouse , on turning her up in her Nest with the Plough The Cotter's Saturday Night Address to the ...
... Death and Dying Words of Poor Mailie , the Author's only Pet Yowe . Extract from An Epistle to John Lapraik , an old Scottish Bard To a Mouse , on turning her up in her Nest with the Plough The Cotter's Saturday Night Address to the ...
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Términos y frases comunes
Addison admiration Ambrose Philips beauty beneath blank verse blest born breast breath Castle of Indolence charms couplet court criticism death Dunciad e'er Eclogues English English poetry Epistle Essay Essay on Criticism Ev'n ev'ry eyes fair fame fate fool frae genius GEORGE SAINTSBURY grace grave Gray Grongar Hill hand happy head heart heaven Horace kings knave live Lord Lord Hervey mind moral muse nature ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er once passion perhaps Pindaric pleasure poem poet poet's poetical poetry Pope Pope's pow'rs praise pride prose rhyme rise round satire sense shade shine sing smile song soul spirit Spleen style sweet Swift taste tell thee things thou thought thro toil trembling truth turns Twas verse virtue Whig wind wise write youth
Pasajes populares
Página 258 - Other refuge have I none, Hangs my helpless soul on thee; Leave, ah, leave me not alone, Still support and comfort me. All my trust on thee is stayed, All my help from thee I bring; Cover my defenceless head With the shadow of thy wing.
Página 563 - Our toils obscure, and a' that ; The rank is but the guinea stamp ; The man's the gowd for a' that. What tho' on hamely fare we dine, Wear hodden-gray, and a' that ; Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, A man's a man for a' that. For a
Página 564 - Guid faith he mauna fa' that ! For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities, and a' that, The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, Are higher rank 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
Página 561 - Wha will be a traitor knave ? Wha can fill a coward's grave ? Wha sae base as be a Slave ? Let him turn and flee ! Wha for Scotland's King and Law, Freedom's sword will strongly draw ; Free-man stand, or Free-man fa', Let him on wi
Página 374 - To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven. As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.
Página 330 - Here rests his head upon the lap of earth A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown ; Fair Science frowned not on his humble birth, And Melancholy marked him for her own.
Página 557 - I'll wage thee. Who shall say that fortune grieves him, While the star of hope she leaves him ? Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me ; Dark despair around benights me. I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy, Naething could resist my Nancy ; But to see her was to love her ; Love but her, and love for ever. Had we never loved sae kindly, Had we never loved sae blindly, Never met or never parted, We had ne'er been broken-hearted.
Página 377 - When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds, too late, that men betray, What charm can soothe her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away ? The only art her guilt to cover, To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom, is— to die.
Página 327 - The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Página 527 - My loved, my honored, much respected friend! No mercenary bard his homage pays; With honest pride, I scorn each selfish end, My dearest meed, a friend's esteem and praise: To you I sing, in simple Scottish lays, The lowly train in life's sequestered scene; The native feelings strong, the guileless ways; What Aiken in a cottage would have been; Ah!