A History of English Literature (600-1900)
Methuen & Company, 1902 - 491 pages
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Page 258 - 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 455 - O may I join the choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again In minds made better by their presence : live In pulses stirred to generosity, In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn For miserable aims that end with self, In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, And with their mild persistence urge men's search To vaster issues.
Page 424 - HALF a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. " Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns," he said: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. "Forward, the Light Brigade!
Page 423 - For I dipt into the future, far as human eye could see, Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be ; Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of magic sails, Pilots of the purple twilight, dropping down with costly bales ; Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there rain'da ghastly dew From the- nations...
Page 167 - Soul of the age, The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage ; My Shakespeare, rise ! I will not lodge thee by Chaucer, or Spenser ; or bid Beaumont lie A little further, to make thee a room ; Thou art a monument without a tomb ; And art alive still, while thy book doth live, And we have wits to read and praise to give.
Page 214 - EVEN such is time, that takes in trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, And pays us but with earth and dust; Who, in the dark and silent grave, When we have wandered all our ways, Shuts up the story of our days; But from this earth, this grave, this dust, My God shall raise me up, I trust!
Page 395 - O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed; Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral! When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, "Beauty is truth, truth beauty," — that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
Page 224 - With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies ; How silently ; and with how wan a face ! What ! may it be, that even in heavenly place That busy Archer his sharp arrows tries ? Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case ; I read it in thy looks ; thy languisht grace To me, that feel the like, thy state descries...
Page 162 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears ; soft stillness, and the night, Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica : Look, how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines' of bright gold; There's not the smallest orb, which thou behold'st, But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubins : Such harmony is in immortal souls ; But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close...
Page 413 - Loop up her tresses Escaped from the comb, Her fair auburn tresses; Whilst wonderment guesses, Where was her home ? Who was her father? Who was her mother? Had she a sister? Had she a brother?