Select British Poets, Or, New Elegant Extracts from Chaucer to the Present Time, with Critical Remarks
William C. Hall, 1824 - 822 من الصفحات
ما يقوله الناس - كتابة مراجعة
لم نعثر على أي مراجعات في الأماكن المعتادة.
طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
appear arms bear beauty better blood breath comes court death deep delight doth earth ease eyes face fair fall fame fate fear fire fool force give gold grace half hand happy hast hath head hear heart Heaven hire honour hope hour keep kind king lady land laws learned leave less light live look lord lost mean mind Muse nature never night o'er once pain pass peace plain pleasure poets praise pride proud rest rich rise round sense shade side sight sing song soon soul sound spring stand stood stream sure sweet tell thee things thou thought true turn virtue wind wings wise woods youth
الصفحة 107 - And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. So much the rather thou, celestial Light, Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers Irradiate ; there plant eyes, all mist from thence Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell Of things invisible to mortal sight.
الصفحة 300 - Peace to all such! But were there One whose fires True Genius kindles and fair Fame inspires; Blest with each talent and each art to please, And born to write, converse, and live with ease: Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne, View him with scornful, yet with jealous eyes, And hate for arts that caus'd himself to rise; Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, And without sneering, teach the rest to sneer...
الصفحة 407 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath, and near his favourite tree ; Another came : nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he : The next, with dirges due in sad array Slow through the churchway path we saw him borne, — Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
الصفحة 139 - CYRIACK, this three years' day these eyes, though clear, To outward view, of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot ; Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot Of heart or hope, but still bear up and steer Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask ? The conscience, friend, to have lost them overplied In Liberty's defence, my noble task, Of which...
الصفحة 407 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noon-tide would he stretch. And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
الصفحة 91 - But, swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread: Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw Daily devours apace, and nothing said. But that two-handed engine at the door Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.
الصفحة 375 - He threw his blood-stain'd sword in thunder down ; And with a withering look The war-denouncing trumpet took ; And blew a blast so loud and dread, Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe . And ever and anon he beat The doubling drum with furious heat...
الصفحة 107 - 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: But cloud instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair Presented with a universal blank Of nature's works, to me expunged and rased, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.
الصفحة 454 - Better dwell in the midst of alarms, Than reign in this horrible place. 1 am out of humanity's reach, I must finish my journey alone, Never hear the sweet music of speech, I start at the sound of my own. The beasts that roam over the plain My form with indifference see, They are so unacquainted with man, Their tameness is shocking to me.
الصفحة 143 - Let us roll all our strength and all Our sweetness up into one ball, And tear our pleasures with rough strife Thorough the iron gates of life. Thus, though we cannot make our sun Stand still, yet we will make him run.