Parodies of the Works of English & American Authors, Količina 1Reeves & Turner, 1884 Includes parodies of Tennyson, Longfellow, Bret Harte, Thomas Hood, Swinburne, Browning, Shakespeare, Milton, Poe, Shelley, Cowper, Coleridge, Herrick, Carroll, Lever, Lover, Burns, Scott, Goldsmith, Kingsley, Byron and many others. |
Iz vsebine knjige
Zadetki 1–5 od 44
Stran 1
... turning high - class literature into ridicule , but because many of the parodies are in themselves works of considerable literary merit . Moreover , as " imitation is the sincerest form of flattery , " so does a parody show that its ...
... turning high - class literature into ridicule , but because many of the parodies are in themselves works of considerable literary merit . Moreover , as " imitation is the sincerest form of flattery , " so does a parody show that its ...
Stran 9
... turned into cynical indif- ference , whilst preserving a great similarity of style and versification . THE BITER BIT . THE sun is in the sky , mother , the flowers are springing fair , And the melody of woodland birds is stirring in the ...
... turned into cynical indif- ference , whilst preserving a great similarity of style and versification . THE BITER BIT . THE sun is in the sky , mother , the flowers are springing fair , And the melody of woodland birds is stirring in the ...
Stran 11
... turned away , You must long for another big play , Henry , you must long for another big play , - For fads and fancies grow , HENRY , to wither like the grass , - The latest , culture ; -and for that , my name doth current pass , So ...
... turned away , You must long for another big play , Henry , you must long for another big play , - For fads and fancies grow , HENRY , to wither like the grass , - The latest , culture ; -and for that , my name doth current pass , So ...
Stran 13
... turned the City's legend to . NOT even were it to remove a tax Could a Godiva ride abroad to - day As she rode forth a thousand summers back : Lord Campbell's Act , and Collette both forbid ! Still did the people clamour for a show ; So ...
... turned the City's legend to . NOT even were it to remove a tax Could a Godiva ride abroad to - day As she rode forth a thousand summers back : Lord Campbell's Act , and Collette both forbid ! Still did the people clamour for a show ; So ...
Stran 14
... precious poems ! Oh , that too - too empty purse ! Then I said , " I've an allowance froin an old maternal aunt , Just enough for dress ; but as to victuals — no , I really can't ! " And he turned , his face was frightful , pale 14.
... precious poems ! Oh , that too - too empty purse ! Then I said , " I've an allowance froin an old maternal aunt , Just enough for dress ; but as to victuals — no , I really can't ! " And he turned , his face was frightful , pale 14.
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Parodies of the Works of English & American Authors, Količina 1 Walter Hamilton Predogled ni na voljo - 1967 |
Pogosti izrazi in povedi
A. C. Swinburne Alfred Tennyson Beware bill Boreana break Brigade brow call me early Captain Falcon cold cried curse dance dark dead dear Dray dream dreary drink Dyspepsia eyes face fair feel Filcher Fluffer Funny Folks Galah gone Hail to thee hair hand head hear heard heart hurried imitation Kottabos Lady Clara Laureate's light Locksley Hall London Longfellow look Lord maiden Metcalfe and Son morning mother never night o'er Ozokerit parody Peers play poem Poet Laureate Punch Queen rink round sang shout sigh Sir John Moore Six Hundred sleep smile Song Song of Hiawatha soul stood sweet talk tears tell There's things Thomas Hood thou thought thundered to-morrow Tobacco smoke town turned Twas Vere de Vere verses voice wake walk Wather weary Whilst wondered words
Priljubljeni odlomki
Stran 28 - Howe'er it be, it seems to me, 'Tis only noble to be good. Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood.
Stran 165 - Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, O Sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me. O well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play! O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But O for the touch of a...
Stran 190 - But half of our heavy task was done When the clock struck the hour for retiring : And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing. Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.
Stran 105 - Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning.
Stran 21 - Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might ; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, pass'd in music out of sight.
Stran 190 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning. 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.
Stran 171 - They now to fight are gone, Armour on armour shone, Drum now to drum did groan, To hear was wonder ; That with the cries they make, The very earth did shake, Trumpet to trumpet spake, Thunder to thunder.
Stran 124 - I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER. I REMEMBER, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn : He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now I often wish the night Had borne my breath away ! I remember, I remember...
Stran 81 - THE shades of night were falling fast, As through an Alpine village passed A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice, A banner with the strange device, Excelsior ! His brow was sad ; his eye beneath, Flashed like a falchion from its sheath, And like a silver clarion rung The accents of that unknown tongue, Excelsior!
Stran 90 - He did not feel the driver's whip, Nor the burning heat of day ; For Death had illumined the Land of Sleep, And his lifeless body lay A worn-out fetter, that the soul Had broken and thrown away ! THE GOOD PART, THAT SHALL NOT BE TAKEN AWAY.