The English Poets, Том 2Thomas Humphry Ward Macmillan, 1880 |
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Стр. 2
... souls of men , or lightly to move the mirth of the multitude , was and is beyond the power of his poetic genius . To dissolve its inspirations in wantonness , or to satisfy coarse appetites with the husks of its fruits , was incom ...
... souls of men , or lightly to move the mirth of the multitude , was and is beyond the power of his poetic genius . To dissolve its inspirations in wantonness , or to satisfy coarse appetites with the husks of its fruits , was incom ...
Стр. 4
... soul , ' or a hint of the Queen's which he had to develope as ladies ' hints sometimes require , his aim was chiefly to give something of dramatic life as well as of deeper meaning to his occasional pieces . Not only was he re- solved ...
... soul , ' or a hint of the Queen's which he had to develope as ladies ' hints sometimes require , his aim was chiefly to give something of dramatic life as well as of deeper meaning to his occasional pieces . Not only was he re- solved ...
Стр. 7
... soul towards things divine , which stands in strange and touching contrast to the high mettle and quick temper of his bearing in most other matters . Critics have been known to cry out against having to hear too much about the ...
... soul towards things divine , which stands in strange and touching contrast to the high mettle and quick temper of his bearing in most other matters . Critics have been known to cry out against having to hear too much about the ...
Стр. 14
... soul doth rise , Doth ask a drink divine : But might I of Jove's nectar sup , I would not change for thine . I sent thee late a rosy wreath , Not so much honouring thee , As giving it a hope , that there It could not withered be . But ...
... soul doth rise , Doth ask a drink divine : But might I of Jove's nectar sup , I would not change for thine . I sent thee late a rosy wreath , Not so much honouring thee , As giving it a hope , that there It could not withered be . But ...
Стр. 15
... soul I purposed her that should , with even powers , The rock , the spindle , and the shears control Of Destiny , and spin her own free hours . Such when I meant to feign , and wished to see , My Muse bade BEDFORD write , and that was ...
... soul I purposed her that should , with even powers , The rock , the spindle , and the shears control Of Destiny , and spin her own free hours . Such when I meant to feign , and wished to see , My Muse bade BEDFORD write , and that was ...
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Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
Absalom and Achitophel Æneid beauty Ben Jonson born breast breath bright Carew Castara Comus conceits Cowley Crashaw crown death delight died divine dost doth Dryden earth EDMUND W English English poetry eternal eyes fair fame fancy fate fear fire flame flowers Giles Fletcher glory Gondibert grace hand happy hast hath heart heaven hell Herbert Herrick Hesperides hill honour Hudibras Inner Temple Jonson King Lady light live Lord lost Lycidas Milton mind mistress Muse nature never night o'er once Paradise Paradise Lost Paradise Regained passion Perilla Pindar pleasure poems poet poetic poetry praise reign rose sacred shade shalt shepherds shine sighs sight sing sleep song sonnet soul spirit stars sweet tears thee thine things thou thought tree verse Waller wanton weep winds wings write youth
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Стр. 311 - And bring all heaven before mine eyes. And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
Стр. 348 - Me miserable ! which way shall I fly Infinite wrath, and infinite despair ? Which way I fly is hell ; myself am hell ; And in the lowest deep a lower deep Still threatening to devour me opens wide ; To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.
Стр. 10 - DRINK to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Стр. 333 - He scarce had ceased when the superior Fiend Was moving toward the shore ; his ponderous shield, Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round, Behind him cast. The broad circumference Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views At evening, from the top of Fesole, Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands, Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe.
Стр. 214 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Стр. 174 - Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale?
Стр. 450 - Of these the false Achitophel was first, 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.
Стр. 297 - I am now indebted, as being a work not to be raised from the heat of youth, or the vapours of wine, like that which flows at waste from the pen of some vulgar amourist, or the trencher fury of a rhyming parasite ; nor to be obtained by the invocation of dame Memory and her siren daughters ; but by devout prayer to that eternal spirit, who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his seraphim with the hallowed fire of his altar to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases...
Стр. 353 - The birds their quire apply ; airs, vernal airs, Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune The trembling leaves, while universal Pan, Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance, Led on the eternal spring.
Стр. 320 - Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights, and live laborious days : But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, And think to burst out into sudden blaze, Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears And slits the thin-spun life. But not the praise...