Outline History of English and American Literature: For Use in Colleges and Schools |
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Page 65
... father of English prose , " although Wycklif would seem to deserve the title much better , for it is even possible that the name Mandeville is fictitious . His book , however , was the source of the notions about Cathay , Farthest Ind ...
... father of English prose , " although Wycklif would seem to deserve the title much better , for it is even possible that the name Mandeville is fictitious . His book , however , was the source of the notions about Cathay , Farthest Ind ...
Page 90
... vulgar poesey . " Surrey and his father were imprisoned in the Tower by Henry VIII . on a charge of treason for having quartered the royal arms as their own on the ground of descent from Edward 90 ENGLISH AND AMERICAN LITERATURE.
... vulgar poesey . " Surrey and his father were imprisoned in the Tower by Henry VIII . on a charge of treason for having quartered the royal arms as their own on the ground of descent from Edward 90 ENGLISH AND AMERICAN LITERATURE.
Page 91
... father's death . Both Surrey and Wyatt wrote sonnets , and are credited as the introducers of this Italian fourteen - line poem which has become one of the standard forms for amatory and re- flective poetry . Wyatt adhered more closely ...
... father's death . Both Surrey and Wyatt wrote sonnets , and are credited as the introducers of this Italian fourteen - line poem which has become one of the standard forms for amatory and re- flective poetry . Wyatt adhered more closely ...
Page 110
... father , 1554-1586 . Sir Henry Sidney , was Lord President of Wales and Lord Deputy of Ireland , offices of great power and responsibility , and his mother was a daughter of the Duke of Northumberland and sister of Robert Dudley , the ...
... father , 1554-1586 . Sir Henry Sidney , was Lord President of Wales and Lord Deputy of Ireland , offices of great power and responsibility , and his mother was a daughter of the Duke of Northumberland and sister of Robert Dudley , the ...
Page 116
... father's sake , who loved you in his happiest estate . I sued for my life , but God knows it was for you and yours I desired it , for know it my dear wife your child is the child of a true man who in his own respect despiseth death and ...
... father's sake , who loved you in his happiest estate . I sued for my life , but God knows it was for you and yours I desired it , for know it my dear wife your child is the child of a true man who in his own respect despiseth death and ...
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Common terms and phrases
Addison admirable American Anglo-Saxon artistic ballad beauty became Ben Jonson Beowulf blank verse born Byron Cædmon called character Charles Charles Lamb Chaucer Church Coleridge College comedy death died drama early eighteenth century Elizabethan England English literature essays expression Faerie Queene father French friends genius hath heart Henry Henry VIII heroic couplet History Hudibras human humor imagination interest John John Milton JOHNSON'S LIT king language Latin Layamon letters literary living London Lord lyrical Milton mind modern nation nature never night novel period plays poems poet poetic poetry political Pope printed production prose published Puritan qualities Queen rhyme romance satire says sense Shakespeare Shelley Sir Bedivere society song sonnets soul Spenser spirit stanzas story style sweet Tamburlaine thee thou thought tion translated true verse volume William Shakespeare Wordsworth writer written wrote young
Popular passages
Page 469 - TO A WATERFOWL Whither, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
Page 338 - What thou art we know not ; What is most like thee ? From rainbow clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see, As from thy presence showers a rain of melody.
Page 324 - It ceased ; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.
Page 213 - CYRIAC, this three years' day, these eyes, though clear, To outward view, of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot ; Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, Or man, or woman.
Page 341 - He has outsoared the shadow of our night; Envy and calumny and hate and pain, And that unrest which men miscall delight, Can touch him not and torture not again...
Page 170 - QUEEN and huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair, State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose; Cynthia's shining orb was made Heaven to clear when day did close: Bless us then with wished sight, Goddess excellently bright.
Page 199 - Go, lovely rose ! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied. That hadst thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired : Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die ! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee, — How...
Page 339 - What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain ? What fields, or waves, or mountains ? What shapes of sky or plain ? What love of thine own kind ? what ignorance of pain ? With thy clear keen joyance Languor cannot be : Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee : Thou lovest — but ne'e* knew love's sad satiety.
Page 215 - 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 341 - Peace, peace ! he is not dead, he doth not sleep — He hath awakened from the dream of life — 'Tis we, who, lost in stormy visions, keep With phantoms an unprofitable strife, And in mad trance strike with our spirit's knife Invulnerable nothings.