Outline History of English and American Literature: For Use in Colleges and SchoolsAmerican Book Company, 1900 - 552 páginas |
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Outline History of English and American Literature: For Use in Colleges and ... Charles Frederick Johnson Visualização integral - 1900 |
Outline History of English and American Literature: For Use in Colleges and ... Charles Frederick Johnson Visualização integral - 1900 |
Outline History of English and American Literature: For Use in Colleges and ... Charles Frederick Johnson Visualização integral - 1902 |
Palavras e frases frequentes
Addison admirable American Anglo-Saxon artistic ballad beauty became Ben Jonson Beowulf blank verse born Byron Cædmon called character Charles Charles Lamb Chaucer Church Coleridge College comedy death died drama early eighteenth century Elizabethan England English literature essays expression Faerie Queene father French friends genius hath heart Henry Henry VIII heroic couplet History Hudibras human humor imagination interest John John Milton JOHNSON'S LIT king language Latin Layamon letters literary living London Lord lyrical Milton mind modern nation nature never night novel period plays poems poet poetic poetry political Pope printed production prose published Puritan qualities Queen rhyme romance satire says sense Shakespeare Shelley Sir Bedivere society song sonnets soul Spenser spirit stanzas story style sweet Tamburlaine thee thou thought tion translated true verse volume William Shakespeare Wordsworth writer written wrote young
Passagens conhecidas
Página 469 - TO A WATERFOWL Whither, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
Página 338 - What thou art we know not ; What is most like thee ? From rainbow clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see, As from thy presence showers a rain of melody.
Página 324 - It ceased ; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.
Página 213 - CYRIAC, 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.
Página 341 - He has outsoared the shadow of our night; Envy and calumny and hate and pain, And that unrest which men miscall delight, Can touch him not and torture not again...
Página 170 - QUEEN and huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair, State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose; Cynthia's shining orb was made Heaven to clear when day did close: Bless us then with wished sight, Goddess excellently bright.
Página 199 - Go, lovely rose ! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied. That hadst thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired : Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die ! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee, — How...
Página 339 - What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain ? What fields, or waves, or mountains ? What shapes of sky or plain ? What love of thine own kind ? what ignorance of pain ? With thy clear keen joyance Languor cannot be : Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee : Thou lovest — but ne'e* knew love's sad satiety.
Página 215 - 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...
Página 341 - Peace, peace ! he is not dead, he doth not sleep — He hath awakened from the dream of life — 'Tis we, who, lost in stormy visions, keep With phantoms an unprofitable strife, And in mad trance strike with our spirit's knife Invulnerable nothings.