The English PoetsThomas Humphry Ward Macmillan, 1901 |
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Thomas Humphry Ward. THE ENGLISH POETS T. H. WARD . VOL . III . THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY : ADDISON TO BLAKE . M THE ENGLISH POETS SELECTIONS WITH CRITICAL INTRODUCTIONS BY VARIOUS.
Thomas Humphry Ward. THE ENGLISH POETS T. H. WARD . VOL . III . THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY : ADDISON TO BLAKE . M THE ENGLISH POETS SELECTIONS WITH CRITICAL INTRODUCTIONS BY VARIOUS.
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... CENTURY Prof. W. Minto 486 Tullochgorum ( John Skinner ) Logie o ' Buchan ( George Halket ) Lewie Gordon ( Alexander Geddes ) • • There's nae Luck about the H use ( Jean Adams ) Ca ' the Yowes ( Isabe Pagan ) • The Flowers of the Forest ...
... CENTURY Prof. W. Minto 486 Tullochgorum ( John Skinner ) Logie o ' Buchan ( George Halket ) Lewie Gordon ( Alexander Geddes ) • • There's nae Luck about the H use ( Jean Adams ) Ca ' the Yowes ( Isabe Pagan ) • The Flowers of the Forest ...
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... century . In some respects it may be said that no advance in this peculiar model was ever made on The Dispensary . Its best lines are equal to any of Pope's in mere fashion , and in it appear clearly enough the inherent defects of the ...
... century . In some respects it may be said that no advance in this peculiar model was ever made on The Dispensary . Its best lines are equal to any of Pope's in mere fashion , and in it appear clearly enough the inherent defects of the ...
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... century her delicate observation of nature seemed less important than the didactic lyricism of Mrs. Barber or the frivolity of Lætitia Pilkington . If those unpublished poems , to which reference has been made , are still in the ...
... century her delicate observation of nature seemed less important than the didactic lyricism of Mrs. Barber or the frivolity of Lætitia Pilkington . If those unpublished poems , to which reference has been made , are still in the ...
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... centuries , almost every English writer - apart from those purely scientific - had to pay toll to what he called the Muses . Bunyan seems to have written his bad lines to italicise the distinction between the most highly imaginative ...
... centuries , almost every English writer - apart from those purely scientific - had to pay toll to what he called the Muses . Bunyan seems to have written his bad lines to italicise the distinction between the most highly imaginative ...
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40 cents ADAM SKIRVING admirable auld auld lang syne beauty beneath Birks of Aberfeldy Book born breath Burns charm Chatterton Cowper critical dear death delight Dunciad Edited English Classics Series English poetry Epistle Essay ev'ry eyes F. T. PALGRAVE fair fame flowers fool frae genius GEORGE SAINTSBURY Globe 8vo grace Gray Grongar Hill hand happy hear heart Heaven John King lassie literary literature live Lord lyre lyric Macmillan's English Classics maun MICHAEL MACMILLAN mind muse nature ne'er never night Notes numbers o'er passion pleasure poems poet poet's poetical poetry poor Pope praise pride prose satire shade Shakespeare sing SKEAT smile song soul spirit sweet taste tell thee thou thought thro toil truth Twas verse virtue W. W. SKEAT weel wind write youth
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Página 568 - Guid faith he mauna fa' that ! For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities, and a' that, The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, Are higher rank than a' that. Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will for a' that ; That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, May bear the gree, and a' that. For a
Página 331 - 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...
Página 260 - Prince of Peace ! Hail! the Sun of Righteousness ! Light and life to all He brings, Risen with healing in His wings. Mild He lays His glory by, Born that man no more may die, Born to raise the sons of earth, Born to give them second birth.
Página 551 - JOHN ANDERSON, MY JO. JOHN ANDERSON, my jo, John, When we were first acquent, Your locks were like the raven, Your bonnie brow was brent ;' But now your brow is beld, John, Your locks are like the snaw ; But blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson, my jo. John Anderson, my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither; And monie a canty day, John, We've had wi...
Página 478 - Affectionate, a mother lost so long, 1 will obey, not willingly alone, But gladly, as the precept were her own ; And, while that face renews my filial grief, Fancy shall weave a charm for my relief, Shall steep me in Elysian reverie, A momentary dream that thou art she.
Página 562 - O' my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn's blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasp'd her to my bosom ! The golden hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my dearie; For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi' mony a vow and lock'd embrace Our parting was fu' tender; And pledging aft to meet again, We tore oursels asunder; But, Oh!
Página 318 - Ye distant spires, ye antique towers, That crown the watery glade, Where grateful Science still adores Her Henry's holy shade ; And ye, that from the stately brow Of Windsor's heights th' expanse below Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey, Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among Wanders the hoary Thames along His silver-winding way : Ah, happy hills ! ah, pleasing shade ! Ah, fields beloved in vain ! Where once my careless childhood strayed, A stranger yet to pain!
Página 580 - 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.
Página 378 - To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in Heaven. 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.
Página 380 - That sly-boots was cursedly cunning to hide 'em. Here lies our good Edmund, whose genius was such, We scarcely can praise it, or blame it too much; Who, born for the universe, narrowed his mind, And to party gave up what was meant for mankind. Though fraught with all learning, yet straining his throat To persuade Tommy Townshend to lend him a vote; Who, too deep for his hearers, still went on refining, And thought of convincing, while they thought of dining...