Englische studien: Organ für englische philologie unter mitberücksichtigung des englischen unterrichts auf höheren schulen ..., Volume 24

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Gebr. Henninger, 1898 - English philology

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Page 25 - Out of my grief and my impatience, Answer'd neglectingly I know not what, He should, or he should not; for he made me mad, To see him shine so brisk and smell so sweet...
Page 150 - For, lo, the wicked bend their bow, they make ready their arrow upon the string, that they may privily shoot at the upright in heart.
Page 306 - His life was gentle, and the elements So mix'd in him that Nature might stand up And say to all the world, 'This was a man!
Page 313 - Do not all charms fly At the mere touch of cold philosophy ? There was an awful rainbow once in heaven : We know her woof, her texture ; she is given In the dull catalogue of common things. Philosophy will clip an Angel's wings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, Empty the haunted air and gnomed mine — Unweave a rainbow...
Page 293 - A name to all succeeding ages curst: For close designs and crooked counsels fit, Sagacious, bold, and turbulent of wit; Restless, unfixed in principles and place; In power unpleased, impatient of disgrace ; A fiery soul, which, working out its way, Fretted the pigmy body to decay, And o'er-informed the tenement of clay...
Page 344 - Tis true, I cannot go so far as he who published the last edition of him; for he would make us believe the fault is in our ears, and that there were really ten syllables in a verse where we find but nine...
Page 204 - And they rose up the same hour, and returned to Jerusalem, and found the eleven gathered together, and them that were with them, saying The Lord is risen indeed, and hath appeared to Simon.
Page 17 - By Goddes precious herte,' and 'By his nayles,' And 'By the blood of Crist that is in Hayles,' 'Sevene is my chaunce, and thyn is cynk and treye, By Goddes armes, if thou falsly pleye, This daggere shal thurghout thyn herte go!
Page 439 - Until he came unto the Wash Of Edmonton so gay; And there he threw the Wash about On both sides of the way, Just like unto a trundling mop, Or a wild goose at play. At Edmonton his loving wife From the balcony spied Her tender husband, wondering much To see how he did ride. "Stop, stop, John Gilpin!— Here's the house !" They all at once did cry; "The dinner waits, and we are tired;"— Said Gilpin, "So am I!
Page 345 - ... in Chaucer's age. It were an easy matter to produce some thousands of his verses which are lame for want of half a foot and sometimes a whole one, and which no pronunciation can make otherwise.

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