A Hand-book of English and American Literature: Historical and Critical : with Illustrations of the Writings of Each Successive Period : for the Use of Schools and Academies
Eldredge & Brother, 1884 - 510 páginas
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afterwards American Anne Hathaway ballads beauty became Ben Jonson Beowulf born breath brother called Celts century Charles Charles II Charles Lamb Chaucer chief Church Church of England Coleridge critic death delight drama dramatists Dryden early Edinburgh Review Elizabeth England English English language Essays eyes father genius Geoffrey of Monmouth George hath heart heaven Henry History human humor James JOHN Johnson King King Arthur labor lady language Latin LAYAMON learned Letters light literary literature lived Lord Mary Milton mind nature never night novel novelist o'er Odin Ormulum period play poems poet poetic poetry political Pope popular prose published Queen reign rhymed ROBERT Roger Ascham romance satire says Scotland Shakespeare sing song soul spirit stories style sweet thee things THOMAS thou thought translated truth verse Whig WILLIAM words writers written wrote young
Página 194 - That, changed through all, and yet in all the same; Great in the earth, as in the ethereal frame; Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze, Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees; Lives through all life, extends through all extent; Spreads undivided, operates unspent!
Página 471 - THE ARROW AND THE SONG. I SHOT an arrow into the air, It fell to earth I knew not where ; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight. I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where ; For who has sight so keen and strong, That it can follow the flight of song ! Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke ; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend.
Página 299 - To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core ; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel ; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease ; For Summer has o'erbrimmed their clammy cells.
Página 195 - The world recedes; it disappears! Heaven opens on my eyes! my ears With sounds seraphic ring: Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! O Grave ! where is thy victory ? O Death! where is thy sting?
Página 237 - Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way, With blossomed furze unprofitably gay, There, in his noisy mansion, skilled to rule, The village master taught his little school. A man severe he was, and stern to view; I knew him well, and every truant knew; Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace The day's disasters in his morning face...
Página 363 - Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light: The year is dying in the night; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false, ring in the true.
Página 296 - We look before and after, And pine for what is not; Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
Página 129 - And though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play upon the earth, so Truth be in the field, we do injuriously by licensing and prohibiting to misdoubt her strength. Let her and Falsehood grapple. Who ever knew Truth put to the worse, in a free and open encounter ? Her confuting is the best and surest suppressing.
Página 105 - All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits, and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms...
Página 146 - WHEN I consider how my light is spent, Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest he returning chide, ' Doth God exact day-labor, light denied ?