A Complete Manual of English Literature

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Sheldon & Company, 1867 - 540 strani
 

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Stran 438 - For over all there hung a cloud of fear ; A sense of mystery the spirit daunted, And said, as plain as whisper in the ear, The place is haunted...
Stran 212 - ... sometimes it is couched in a bold scheme of speech, in a tart irony, in a lusty hyperbole, in a startling metaphor, in a plausible reconciling of contradictions, or in acute nonsense ; sometimes...
Stran 454 - ... by night in places of interment. Some stalked slowly on, absorbed in profound reverie ; some, shrieking with agony, ran furiously about like tigers wounded with poisoned arrows ; whilst others, grinding their teeth in rage, foamed along more frantic than the wildest maniac. They all avoided each other ; and, though surrounded by a multitude that no one could number, each wandered at random unheedful of the rest, as if alone on a desert where no foot had trodden.
Stran 267 - which you did me the honour to subscribe for.' — 'Oh,' said Bentley, 'ay, now I recollect — your translation: — it is a pretty poem, Mr. Pope; but you must not call it Homer?
Stran 463 - We find in it the diligence, the accuracy, and the judgment of Hallam, united to the vivacity and the colouring of Southey. A history of England, written throughout in this manner, would be the most fascinating book in the language. It would be more in request at the circulating libraries than the last novel.
Stran 529 - Father, Thy hand Hath reared these venerable columns. Thou Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down Upon the naked earth, and forthwith rose All these fair ranks of trees. They in Thy sun Budded, and shook their green leaves in Thy breeze, And shot towards heaven. The centuryliving crow, Whose birth was in their tops, grew old and died Among their branches, till at last they stood, As now they stand, massy and tall and dark, Fit shrine for humble worshipper to hold Communion with his Maker.
Stran 85 - He would have made a great epic poet, if indeed he has not abundantly shown himself to be one ; for his Homer is not so properly a translation as the stories of Achilles and Ulysses rewritten.
Stran 52 - Women," long ago Sung by the morning star of song, who made His music heard below ; Dan Chaucer, the first warbler, whose sweet breath Preluded those melodious bursts that fill The spacious times of great Elizabeth With sounds that echo still.
Stran 147 - tis most certain, Iras. Saucy lictors Will catch at us, like strumpets ; and scald rhymers Ballad us out o' tune : the quick comedians Extemporally will stage us, and present Our Alexandrian revels : Antony Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness I
Stran 529 - Stoop o'er the place of graves, and softly sway The sighing herbage by the gleaming stone, That they who near the churchyard willows stray, And listen in the deepening gloom, alone, May think of gentle souls that passed away, Like thy pure breath, into the vast unknown, Sent forth from heaven among the sons of men, And gone into the boundless heaven again.

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