English Poets of the Eighteenth CenturyErnest Bernbaum |
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Page xxxi
... heart " ? ) And here was the record of a nature - people whose conduct stood revealed as flawless . " Fingal , " Macpherson himself ac- commodatingly pointed out , " exercised every manly virtue in Caledonia while Heliogabalus disgraced ...
... heart " ? ) And here was the record of a nature - people whose conduct stood revealed as flawless . " Fingal , " Macpherson himself ac- commodatingly pointed out , " exercised every manly virtue in Caledonia while Heliogabalus disgraced ...
Page xxxiv
... heart ; but the discordant element in Cowper's mind was his inclination towards Calvinism , which goes to the op- posite extreme by insisting on total depravity . Personally he believed that he had committed the unpardonable sin ...
... heart ; but the discordant element in Cowper's mind was his inclination towards Calvinism , which goes to the op- posite extreme by insisting on total depravity . Personally he believed that he had committed the unpardonable sin ...
Page xxxv
... heart " ; and as " a signal instance of true and uncultivated genius . " The real Burns , though indeed a genius of song , was far better read than the expectant world wished to believe , particularly in those whom he called his " bosom ...
... heart " ; and as " a signal instance of true and uncultivated genius . " The real Burns , though indeed a genius of song , was far better read than the expectant world wished to believe , particularly in those whom he called his " bosom ...
Page 4
... heart . I'd have her reason all her passions sway ; Easy in company , in private gay ; Coy to a fop , to the deserving free ; Still constant to herself , and just to me . She should a soul have for great actions fit ; Prudence and ...
... heart . I'd have her reason all her passions sway ; Easy in company , in private gay ; Coy to a fop , to the deserving free ; Still constant to herself , and just to me . She should a soul have for great actions fit ; Prudence and ...
Page 12
... heart was by my tongue belied , And in my looks you might have read How much I argued on your side . You , far from danger as from fear , Might have sustained an open fight : For seldom your opinions err ; Your eyes are always in the ...
... heart was by my tongue belied , And in my looks you might have read How much I argued on your side . You , far from danger as from fear , Might have sustained an open fight : For seldom your opinions err ; Your eyes are always in the ...
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Common terms and phrases
AUGUSTUS MONTAGU TOPLADY auld auld lang syne bard beauty beneath blessed blest bliss breast breath charms clouds crown dear delight divine dread e'er earth eternal fair fame fancy fate fear Fingal flowers folly fools frae gale grace grave Grongar Hill hand happy hear heart Heaven hill human JOHN GILBERT COOPER king labour live Lubberkin lyre Matthew Prior mind moral murmurs Muse nature Nature's ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er Ossian pain passions peace plain pleasing pleasure poet poor praise pride proud rage raptures RICHARD JAGO rills rise round scene shade shine sigh sing skelpin smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spread spring swain sweet tears thee thine thou thought toil trembling truth Twas vale virtue voice wandering wave wild wind wings wretch wyllowe youth
Popular passages
Page 183 - THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Page 218 - As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm ; Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.
Page 185 - Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife Their sober wishes never learned to stray ; Along the cool sequestered vale of life They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.
Page 236 - Nothing in my hand I bring, Simply to thy cross I cling ; Naked, come to Thee for dress ; Helpless, look to Thee for grace ; Foul, I to the Fountain fly, Wash me, Saviour, or I die...
Page 143 - Other refuge have I none, Hangs my helpless soul on thee. Leave, ah leave me not alone, Still support and comfort me. All my trust on thee is stayed, All my help from thee I bring; Cover my defenceless head With the shadow of thy wing.
Page 184 - Await alike the inevitable hour. The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, If memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death...
Page 160 - How sleep the Brave T_TOW 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 grey, To bless the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall awhile repair To dwell, a weeping hermit, there...
Page 269 - I would not enter on my list of friends (Though graced with polished manners and fine sense. Yet wanting sensibility) the man Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.
Page 215 - 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 61 - Dreading e'en fools, by flatterers besieged, And so obliging, that he ne'er obliged; Like Cato, give his little senate laws, And sit attentive to his own applause; While wits and Templars every sentence raise, And wonder with a foolish face of praise — Who but must laugh, if such a man there be? Who would not weep, if Atticus were he? What though my name stood rubric on the walls, Or plaster'd posts, with claps, in capitals? Or smoking forth, a hundred hawkers load, On wings of winds came flying...