A Text-book on English Literature: With Copious Extracts from the Leading Authors, English and American : with Full Instructions as to the Method in which These are to be Studied : Adapted for Use in Colleges, High Schools and Academies

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Clark & Maynard, 1882 - English literature - 446 pages

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Page 381 - Away ! away ! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards : Already with thee ! tender is the night, And haply the queen-moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry fays...
Page 369 - The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold ; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Page 376 - ... flowers From the seas and the streams ; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under. And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
Page 359 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave : Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow; While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Page 184 - The oracles are dumb, No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. No nightly trance or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
Page 381 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet...
Page 215 - 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, yet with jealous eyes, And hate for arts that caus'd himself to rise; Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, And without sneering, teach the rest to sneer...
Page 185 - And sullen Moloch, fled, Hath left in shadows dread His burning idol all of blackest hue ; In vain with cymbals' ring They call the grisly king, In dismal dance about the furnace blue ; The brutish gods of Nile as fast, Isis, and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste...
Page 199 - Now strike the golden lyre again: A louder yet, and yet a louder strain. Break his bands of sleep asunder, And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark, hark, the horrid sound Has raised up his head! As awaked from the dead, And amazed, he stares around.
Page 263 - Unskilful he to note the card Of prudent lore, Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, And whelm him o'er ! Such fate to suffering worth is...

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