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alliteration Anglo-Saxon Anglo-Saxon Chronicle appears artistic ballads beauty Ben Jonson Beowulf blank verse Byron Carlyle characters Chaucer chief chiefly Church classical Coleridge comedy couplet critics death delightful devoted drama dramatists Dryden eighteenth century Elizabethan emotion England English literature especially essays expression Faerie Queene famous French genius George Eliot Greek human ideal important influence intellectual interest Italian John Johnson Keats King largely later Latin less literary lived London lyric lyric poetry marriage Matthew Arnold medieval ment modern moral narrative nature noble novels partly perhaps period persons plays poems poetic poetry poets political Pope popular prose pseudo-classical published Puritan Queen reader religious Renaissance rimed romantic Romanticism Sartor Resartus satire Saxon scenes Sejanus Shakspere Shakspere's social sometimes Spenser spirit stanza story style success Tamburlaine tion tragedy verse vigorous Whig whole William Wordsworth writing wrote
Page 153 - Was this the face that launched a thousand ships And burnt the topless towers of Ilium ? Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.
Page 359 - I STROVE with none, for none was worth my strife; Nature I loved, and next to Nature, Art; I warmed both hands before the fire of life; It sinks, and I am ready to depart.
Page 170 - I behold like a Spanish great galleon, and an English man-of-war; Master Coleridge, like the former, was built far higher in learning, solid, but slow in his performances. CVL, with the English man-of-war, lesser in bulk, but lighter in sailing, could turn with all tides, tack about, and take advantage of all winds, by the quickness of his wit and invention.
Page 375 - Worldkin. Produce! Produce! Were it but the pitifullest infinitesimal fraction of a Product, produce it, in God's name ! 'Tis the utmost thou hast in thee : out with it, then. Up, up ! Whatsoever thy hand rindeth to do, do it with thy whole might. Work while it is called To-day; for the Night cometh, wherein no man can work.
Page 34 - More yellow was her head than the flower of the broom, and her skin was whiter than the foam of the wave, and fairer were her hands and her fingers than the blossoms of the wood anemone amidst the spray of the meadow fountain.
Page 152 - From jigging veins of rhyming mother wits, And such conceits as clownage keeps in pay, We'll lead you to the stately tent of War...
Page 356 - I know not where to go." xxxvI Beyond a mortal man impassion'd far At these voluptuous accents, he arose, Ethereal, flush'd, and like a throbbing star Seen 'mid the sapphire heaven's deep repose; Into her dream he melted, as the rose Blendeth its odour with the violet, — Solution sweet: meantime the frost-wind blows Like Love's alarum, pattering the sharp sleet Against the window-panes; St. Agnes
Page 63 - Sumer is icumen in, Lhude sing cuccu ! Groweth sed, and bloweth med, And springth the wude nu, Sing cuccu ! " Awe bleteth after lomb, Lhouth after calve cu ; Bulluc sterteth, bucke verteth, Murie sing cuccu ! "Cuccu, cuccu, well singes thu, cuccu, Ne swik thu naver nu ; Sing, cuccu, nu, sing, cuccu, Sing, cuccu, sing, cuccu, nu !