List of authors. Essay on English poetry. General indexThomas Campbell J. Murray, 1819 |
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Стр. 22
... sweet Liberty . * " And pomp , and feast , and revelry , " With masque , and antique pageantry . " Those Latin lines are , in fact , a prototype of our own eight syllable iambic . It is singular that rhyme and such metres as the above ...
... sweet Liberty . * " And pomp , and feast , and revelry , " With masque , and antique pageantry . " Those Latin lines are , in fact , a prototype of our own eight syllable iambic . It is singular that rhyme and such metres as the above ...
Стр. 141
... sweet- ness of versification and imagery to be found in our blank verse anterior to Shakespeare . David's character - the traits both of his guilt and sensibility- his passion for Bethsabe - his art in in- flaming the military ambition ...
... sweet- ness of versification and imagery to be found in our blank verse anterior to Shakespeare . David's character - the traits both of his guilt and sensibility- his passion for Bethsabe - his art in in- flaming the military ambition ...
Стр. 142
... sweet plain , that bears her pleasant weight , Be still enamell'd with discolour'd flowers ! That precious fount bear sand of purest gold ; And , for the pebble , let the silver streams Play upon rubies , sapphires , chrysolites ; The ...
... sweet plain , that bears her pleasant weight , Be still enamell'd with discolour'd flowers ! That precious fount bear sand of purest gold ; And , for the pebble , let the silver streams Play upon rubies , sapphires , chrysolites ; The ...
Стр. 145
... sweet lyric song . " But his manner , on the whole , is stilted . " Brave Mar- lowe , bathed in the Thespian springs , " of whose " mighty muse " Ben Jonson himself speaks reverentially , had powers of no ordinary class , and even ...
... sweet lyric song . " But his manner , on the whole , is stilted . " Brave Mar- lowe , bathed in the Thespian springs , " of whose " mighty muse " Ben Jonson himself speaks reverentially , had powers of no ordinary class , and even ...
Стр. 155
... sweet oblivious antidote " to such " perilous stuff . " It is not , how- ever , either in favour of Shakespeare's or of Webster's genius that we shall be called on to make allowance , if we justify in the drama the lapse of such a ...
... sweet oblivious antidote " to such " perilous stuff . " It is not , how- ever , either in favour of Shakespeare's or of Webster's genius that we shall be called on to make allowance , if we justify in the drama the lapse of such a ...
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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...