Poetical Quotations from Chaucer to Tennyson: With Copious Indexes ... |
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Page 58
... true ; But are not critics to their judgments too ? POPE . A clerk foredoom'd his father's soul to cross , Who pens a stanza when he should engross . РОРЕ . What could thus high thy rash ambition raise ? Art thou , fond youth , a ...
... true ; But are not critics to their judgments too ? POPE . A clerk foredoom'd his father's soul to cross , Who pens a stanza when he should engross . РОРЕ . What could thus high thy rash ambition raise ? Art thou , fond youth , a ...
Page 62
... True sword to sword . SHAKSPEARE . The interruption of their churlish drums Cuts off more circumstance ; they are at hand To parley , or to fight . SHAKSPEARE . In this kind to come , in braving arms , Be his own carver , and cut out ...
... True sword to sword . SHAKSPEARE . The interruption of their churlish drums Cuts off more circumstance ; they are at hand To parley , or to fight . SHAKSPEARE . In this kind to come , in braving arms , Be his own carver , and cut out ...
Page 70
... true beauty but fair virtue's face , — Virtue made visible in outward grace ? YOUNG . What's female beauty , but an air divine , Through which the mind's all gentle graces shine ? They , like the sun , irradiate all between ; The body ...
... true beauty but fair virtue's face , — Virtue made visible in outward grace ? YOUNG . What's female beauty , but an air divine , Through which the mind's all gentle graces shine ? They , like the sun , irradiate all between ; The body ...
Page 86
... true fame , or ever can , But what did honour to the name of man . BORES . YOUNG . What though no bees around your cradle flew , Nor on their lips distill'd their golden dew , Yet have we oft discover'd , in their stead , A swarm of ...
... true fame , or ever can , But what did honour to the name of man . BORES . YOUNG . What though no bees around your cradle flew , Nor on their lips distill'd their golden dew , Yet have we oft discover'd , in their stead , A swarm of ...
Page 100
... True joy to all is free : Nor wealth nor knowledge grant the boon , ' Tis thine , O Conscience ! thine alone : It all belongs to thee . MICKLE . Now conscience wakes despair That slumber'd , wakes the bitter memory renews . DRYDEN ...
... True joy to all is free : Nor wealth nor knowledge grant the boon , ' Tis thine , O Conscience ! thine alone : It all belongs to thee . MICKLE . Now conscience wakes despair That slumber'd , wakes the bitter memory renews . DRYDEN ...
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Common terms and phrases
ADDISON ANNE BRADSTREET beauty BEN JONSON birds bless breast breath bright BYRON charms Childe Harold clouds coursers COWLEY COWPER dark death delight DENHAM doth dreams DRYDEN earth eternal ev'n ev'ry eyes fair fame fate fear flowers fools gentle give glory golden grace grief happy hast hath heart heaven honour hope hour Hudibras ISAAC WATTS JOANNA BAILLIE king light live look MILTON mind morning muse N. P. WILLIS nature ne'er never night Night Thoughts numbers nymph o'er pain passion peace pleasure POPE pow'r praise pride PRIOR ROSCOMMON round shade SHAKSPEARE shine sigh sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul SPENSER spirit spring stars stream sweet SWIFT tears thee thine things THOMSON thou thought trees truth virtue voice WALLER WALTER HARTE weep wind wings wise woman words YOUNG youth РОРЕ
Popular passages
Page 393 - How sleep the Brave, who sink to rest By all their Country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallow'd mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung, By forms unseen their dirge is sung : There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; And Freedom shall awhile repair To dwell a weeping hermit there ! W.
Page 433 - LEAD, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, Lead Thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home! Lead Thou me on. Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see The distant scene — one step enough for me.
Page 380 - Dark-heaving; — boundless, endless, and sublime; The image of eternity, the throne Of the Invisible: even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
Page 97 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then, have I reason to be fond of grief ? Fare you well: had you such a loss as I, I could give better comfort than you do.
Page 720 - The Rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the Rose; The Moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare; Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair; The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.
Page 29 - Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay : Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade ; A breath can make them as a breath has made ; But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroyed, can never be supplied.
Page 297 - Life ! we've been long together Through pleasant and through cloudy weather; 'Tis hard. to part when friends are dear — Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear; — Then steal away, give little warning, Choose thine own time; Say not Good Night, — but in some brighter clime Bid me Good Morning.
Page 380 - Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll ! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin — his control Stops with the shore ; — upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy...
Page 105 - O how canst thou renounce the boundless store Of charms which Nature to her votary yields ! The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields ; All that the genial ray of morning gilds, And all that echoes to the song of even, All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, And all the dread magnificence of Heaven, O how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven ! These charms shall work thy soul's eternal health, And love, and gentleness, and joy impart.
Page 546 - I fear no foe with thee at hand to bless; ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness. Where is death's sting? Where, grave, thy victory? I triumph still, if thou abide with me.