List of authors. Essay on English poetry. General indexThomas Campbell J. Murray, 1819 |
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Стр. 9
... probably to be presumed ' . Layamon , however , whether we call him Saxon or English , certainly exhibits a dawn of English . And when did this dawn appear ? Mr. Ellis computes that it was in 1180 , placing it thus late , be- ' If ...
... probably to be presumed ' . Layamon , however , whether we call him Saxon or English , certainly exhibits a dawn of English . And when did this dawn appear ? Mr. Ellis computes that it was in 1180 , placing it thus late , be- ' If ...
Стр. 10
... probably twenty - five years engaged in the task . But this is attempting to be precise in dates , where there is no ground for pre- cision . It is quite as easy to suppose that the English translator finished his sin , reign in my mood ...
... probably twenty - five years engaged in the task . But this is attempting to be precise in dates , where there is no ground for pre- cision . It is quite as easy to suppose that the English translator finished his sin , reign in my mood ...
Стр. 16
... probably was never altogether extinct , may be supposed to have sunk to the lowest ebb . No human pursuit is more sensible than poetry to national pride or mortification , and a race of peasants , like the Saxons , struggling for bare ...
... probably was never altogether extinct , may be supposed to have sunk to the lowest ebb . No human pursuit is more sensible than poetry to national pride or mortification , and a race of peasants , like the Saxons , struggling for bare ...
Стр. 37
... probably endited in the very year of the political murders which it celebrates : certainly before 1314 , as it mentions the skulking of Robert Bruce , which , after the battle of Bannockburn , must have become a jest out of season . A ...
... probably endited in the very year of the political murders which it celebrates : certainly before 1314 , as it mentions the skulking of Robert Bruce , which , after the battle of Bannockburn , must have become a jest out of season . A ...
Стр. 59
... ( probably the name of its ancient possessor ) , the framer of the Cotton catalogue , very goodnaturedly , converted it into Geoffrey Chaucer . By this circumstance Mr. Tyrwhitt , when seeking materials for his edition of the Canterbury ...
... ( probably the name of its ancient possessor ) , the framer of the Cotton catalogue , very goodnaturedly , converted it into Geoffrey Chaucer . By this circumstance Mr. Tyrwhitt , when seeking materials for his edition of the Canterbury ...
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Æneid allegorical ancient antiquity appear ballads beauty Ben Jonson Canterbury Tales certainly character Chaucer Chro Chronicle classical comedy Conquest contemporaries doth drama Dryden Elizabeth Ellis England English poetry Erceldoun eyes fable Fairy Queen fancy feeling fiction fifteenth Fletcher French genius Gorboduc grace guage hath heart Henry Henry VIII humour JOHN Jonson Langlande language Latin Layamon's literature Lord Surrey lover manner ment metrical romance Milton mind Mirror for Magistrates modern moral Muse native nature Norman opinion original passion period pieces poem poet poetical prose racter reign of Edward rhyme Ritson Robert of Gloucester romance poetry satire Saxon Scottish Shakespeare shew sixteenth century song speak specimen Spenser spirit story style supposed Surrey sweet taste thee thirteenth century THOMAS Thomas the Rhymer thou Tidore tion tragedy translation Troy verse versifier Warton WILLIAM William of Malmsbury words writers
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Стр. 265 - What modes of sight betwixt each wide extreme, The mole's dim curtain, and the lynx's beam: Of smell, the headlong lioness between, And hound sagacious on the tainted green: Of hearing, from the life that fills the flood, To that which warbles thro' the vernal wood: The spider's touch, how exquisitely fine!
Стр. 263 - Farewell the tranquil mind ! Farewell content ! Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars, That make ambition virtue ! O, farewell ! Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, The royal banner ; and all quality. Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war ! And O, you mortal engines, whose rude throats The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit, Farewell ! Othello's occupation's gone ! lago.
Стр. 265 - Or in proud falls magnificently lost, But clear and artless, pouring" through the plain Health to the sick, and solace to the swain. Whose causeway parts the vale with shady rows? Whose seats the weary traveller repose ? Who taught that Heav'n-directed spire to rise? " The Man of Ross,
Стр. 219 - Do my face (If thou had'st ever feeling of a sorrow) Thus, thus, Antiphila : strive to make me look Like Sorrow's monument ; and the trees about me, Let them be dry and leafless ; let the rocks Groan with continual surges ; and behind me, Make all a desolation.
Стр. 266 - So Zembla's rocks (the beauteous work of frost) Rise white in air, and glitter o'er the coast ; Pale suns, unfelt, at distance roll away, And on th' impassive ice the lightnings play ; Eternal snows the growing mass supply, Till the bright mountains prop th' incumbent sky ; As Atlas fix'd, each hoary pile appears, The gather'd winter of a thousand years.
Стр. 242 - Anon they move In perfect phalanx to the Dorian mood Of flutes and soft recorders...
Стр. 35 - THOUGH some make slight of libels, yet you may see by them how the wind sits : as take a straw and throw it up into the air, you shall see by that which way the wind is, which you shall not do by casting up a stone. More solid things do not show the complexion of the times so well as ballads and libels.
Стр. 229 - When our souls shall leave this dwelling, The glory of one fair and virtuous action Is above all the scutcheons on our tomb, Or silken banners over us.
Стр. 233 - E'en death to die for thee. Thou art my life, my love, my heart, The very eyes of me: And hast command of every part, To live and die for thee.
Стр. 142 - Struck with the accents of archangels' tunes, Wrought not more pleasure to her husband's thoughts, Than this fair woman's words and notes to mine. May that sweet plain that bears her pleasant weight, Be still...