From Chaucer to Tennyson: With Twenty-nine Portraits and Selections from Thirty AuthorsMacmillan, 1899 - 325 pages |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 67
Page 13
... heart of the Danish king Cnut was softened by the singing of the monks in Ely . Merie sungen muneches binnen Ely Tha Cnut chyning reu ther by . Roweth , cnihtes , noer the land , And here we thes muneches sang . Merrily sung the monks ...
... heart of the Danish king Cnut was softened by the singing of the monks in Ely . Merie sungen muneches binnen Ely Tha Cnut chyning reu ther by . Roweth , cnihtes , noer the land , And here we thes muneches sang . Merrily sung the monks ...
Page 16
... , unformed English failed to catch . The heroes of these romances were of various climes : Guy of Warwick , and Richard the Lion Heart of England , Havelok the Dane , Sir Troilus of Troy 16 From Chaucer to Tennyson .
... , unformed English failed to catch . The heroes of these romances were of various climes : Guy of Warwick , and Richard the Lion Heart of England , Havelok the Dane , Sir Troilus of Troy 16 From Chaucer to Tennyson .
Page 25
... heart of the English . common folk . The poem The poem was originally in eight divisions , or " passus , " to which was added a con- tinuation in three parts , " Vita Do Wel , Do Bet , and Do Best . " About 1377 the whole was greatly ...
... heart of the English . common folk . The poem The poem was originally in eight divisions , or " passus , " to which was added a con- tinuation in three parts , " Vita Do Wel , Do Bet , and Do Best . " About 1377 the whole was greatly ...
Page 36
... heart became her thrall . " The incident is precisely like Palamon's first sight of Emily in Chaucer's " Knightes Tale , " and almost in the very words of Palamon the poet addresses his lady : Ah , sweet , are ye a worldly creatúre Or ...
... heart became her thrall . " The incident is precisely like Palamon's first sight of Emily in Chaucer's " Knightes Tale , " and almost in the very words of Palamon the poet addresses his lady : Ah , sweet , are ye a worldly creatúre Or ...
Page 46
... heart - break or bloodshed , they bear no poet's name , but are feræ naturæ , and have the flavor of wild game . In the form in which they are preserved , few of them are older than the seventeenth or the latter part of the sixteenth ...
... heart - break or bloodshed , they bear no poet's name , but are feræ naturæ , and have the flavor of wild game . In the form in which they are preserved , few of them are older than the seventeenth or the latter part of the sixteenth ...
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
Alfred Tennyson Arthur ballads Beaumont Beaumont and Fletcher beauty Ben Jonson blank verse Bleak House Byron Canterbury Tales Carlyle century character Chaucer Chronicle church classical Coleridge comedy couplet court Cowper death Dickens diction drama dramatists Dryden Elizabethan England English poetry English poets essays euphuism eyes Faerie Queene fashion Fletcher French French Revolution genius George Eliot Greek hath heart Henry hero heroic humor John Johnson Julius Cæsar King Lady language Latin literary literature lived London Lord lyrical manner Milton modern nature never night novel Paradise Lost passages passion plays poem poet poetic poetry Pope prose published Puritan reader reign romance satire Scott Shakspere Shakspere's Shelley song sonnets soul Spenser spirit story Struldbrugs style sweet Tale taste Tennyson Thackeray thee things Thomas thou thought tion Tottel's Miscellany tragedy translation wild William words Wordsworth writings written wrote young
Popular passages
Page 293 - Heaven lies about us in our infancy. Shades of the prison-house begin to close Upon the growing boy; But he beholds the light and whence it flows, He sees it in his joy. The youth who daily farther from the East Must travel, still is Nature's priest, And, by the vision splendid, Is on his way attended. At length the man perceives it die away And fade into the light of common day.
Page 285 - It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the queen of France, then the dauphiness, at Versailles; and surely never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision.
Page 270 - And bring all Heaven before mine eyes. And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew ; Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
Page 278 - 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, yev with jealous eyes.
Page 284 - At church, with meek and unaffected grace, His looks adorned the venerable place; Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway, And fools, who came to scoff, remained to pray.
Page 272 - 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...
Page 297 - BREATHES there the man with soul so dead Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land ? Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned, From wandering on a foreign strand...
Page 100 - What things have we seen Done at the Mermaid! Heard words that have been So nimble and so full of subtle flame As if that every one from whence they came Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, And had resolved to live a fool the rest Of his dull life.
Page 286 - I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards to avenge even a look that threatened her with insult. But the age of chivalry is gone. That of sophisters, economists, and calculators, has succeeded ; and the glory of Europe is extinguished for ever.
Page 304 - Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel, Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn? And, little town, thy streets for evermore Will silent be ; and not a soul to tell Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.