English Prose and Verse from Beowulf to Stevenson |
From inside the book
Page 376
Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way , With blossom'd furze unprofitably gay , There , in his noisy mansion , skill'd to rule , The village master taught his little school . A map severe he was , and stern to view ; I knew ...
Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way , With blossom'd furze unprofitably gay , There , in his noisy mansion , skill'd to rule , The village master taught his little school . A map severe he was , and stern to view ; I knew ...
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Common terms and phrases
appear arms beauty better body called common dark dead dear death deep delight doth earth England English eyes face fair fall father fear field fire follow give grace hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven honour hope hour Italy kind king lady land learned leave light live look Lord means mind morning nature never night noble o'er once pain pass peace person play pleasure poor reason rest rich round seemed seen side sight sing sleep song soon sorrow soul sound speak spirit stand sweet sword tears tell thee things thou thought took true turn unto wind wise young youth
Popular passages
Page 429 - Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely Contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, 'Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.
Page 511 - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet.— But hark!
Page 306 - Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, And without sneering, teach the rest to sneer; Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike, Just hint a fault and hesitate dislike...
Page 483 - MILTON ! thou should'st be living at this hour : England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters : altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power. Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart : Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea : Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free, So didst thou...
Page 462 - O ! may Heaven their simple lives prevent From luxury's contagion, weak and vile ! Then, howe'er crowns and coronets be rent, A virtuous populace may rise the while, And stand a wall of fire around their much-lov'd isle. 180 O Thou ! who pour'd the patriotic tide, That stream'd thro...
Page 519 - Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce, My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth! And, by the incantation of this verse, Scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind! Be through my lips to unawakened earth The trumpet of a prophecy ! O, Wind, If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?
Page 520 - Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear; If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near.
Page 536 - No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest With his martial cloak around him.
Page 480 - To live beneath your more habitual sway. I love the Brooks which down their channels fret, Even more than when I tripped lightly as they ; The innocent brightness of a new-born Day Is lovely yet ; The Clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober colouring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality ; Another race hath been, and other palms are won.
Page 164 - O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide, The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, That did not better for my life provide Than public means which public manners breeds. Thence comes it that my name receives a brand, And almost thence my nature is subdued To what it works in, like the dyer's hand...
Bibliographic information
| Pealkiri | English Prose and Verse from Beowulf to Stevenson |
| Editor | Henry Spackman Pancoast |
| Publisher | H. Holt, 1915 |
| Original from | the New York Public Library |
| Digitized | 1 nov. 2006 |
| Length | 816 pages |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |