Chronological Guide to English Literature

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Remington & Company, 1878

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Página 212 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, •To mingle with the Universe, and feel What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean— roll!
Página 211 - A good man was ther of religioun, And was a pore PERSOUN of a toun ; But riche he was of holy thought and werk. He was also a lerned man, a clerk That Cristes gospel gladly wolde preche ; His parischens devoutly wolde he teche. Benigne he was, and wonder diligent, And in adversite...
Página 68 - My soul magnifieth the Lord, And my spiryt hath gladid in God myn helthe. For he hath behulden the mekenesse of his handmayden : for lo for this alle generatiouns schulen seye that I am blessid. For he that is mighti hath don to me grete thingis, and his name is holy. And his mercy is fro kyndrede into kyndredis to men that dreden him. He hath made myght in his arm, he scatteride proude men with the thoughte of his herte.
Página 211 - All nature is but art, unknown to thee; All chance, direction, which thou canst not see; All discord, harmony not understood; All partial evil, universal good. And, spite of pride, in erring reason's spite, One truth is clear,
Página 78 - For though my rhyme be ragged, Tattered and jagged, Rudely rain-beaten, Rusty and moth-eaten, If ye take well therewith, It hath in it some pith.
Página 209 - Who, both by precept and example, shows That prose is verse, and verse is merely prose...
Página 66 - Thanne kam ther a Kyng: Knyghthod hym ladde; Might of the communes made hym to regne. And thanne cam Kynde Wit and clerkes he made, For to counseillen the Kyng and the Commune save. The Kyng and Knyghthod and Clergie bothe Casten that the Commune sholde hem [communes] fynde.
Página 212 - One place alone had ceased to hold its prey; A form had pressed it and was there no more; The garments of the Grave beside it lay, Where once they wrapped him on the rocky floor.
Página 164 - which you did me the honour to subscribe for.' — 'Oh,' said Bentley, 'ay, now I recollect — your translation: — it is a pretty poem, Mr. Pope; but you must not call it Homer?
Página 91 - The reluctant pangs of abdicating royalty in Edward furnished hints, which Shakspeare scarcely improved in his Richard the Second ; and the death-scene of Marlowe's king moves pity and terror beyond any scene, ancient or modern, with which I am acquainted.

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