Chambers's Cyclopaedia of English Literature: A History Critical and Biographical of Authors in the English Tongue from the Earliest Times Till the Present Day, with Specimens of Their Writing, Volume 3W. & R. Chambers, 1903 - Authors, English |
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Page 2
... passed that inevitable stage , each society is liable to suffer ( even if it does not in some cases actually suffer ) a reaction , when nature and art are likely again to take the place of convention and arti- fice . Anthropologists ...
... passed that inevitable stage , each society is liable to suffer ( even if it does not in some cases actually suffer ) a reaction , when nature and art are likely again to take the place of convention and arti- fice . Anthropologists ...
Page 4
... passed into type . The ' stall copy , ' as has been pointed out by Mr Lang , destroyed the South English ballad . For the transcriber of ballads for the stall was under the influence of the anti - poetic literature of his time , and the ...
... passed into type . The ' stall copy , ' as has been pointed out by Mr Lang , destroyed the South English ballad . For the transcriber of ballads for the stall was under the influence of the anti - poetic literature of his time , and the ...
Page 9
... passed through so many halls of the poetic palace was at one time passing into yet another - the magic hall of Coleridge and the old ballads . As expressions of the highest romantic temper there are not many things in our literature to ...
... passed through so many halls of the poetic palace was at one time passing into yet another - the magic hall of Coleridge and the old ballads . As expressions of the highest romantic temper there are not many things in our literature to ...
Page 12
... passed . Wordsworth was not frightened , and there was no inconsistency . He found himself divided between his patriotism , which was always strong , and his love for the ideas and the country of Beaupuy . He saw the worst parties in ...
... passed . Wordsworth was not frightened , and there was no inconsistency . He found himself divided between his patriotism , which was always strong , and his love for the ideas and the country of Beaupuy . He saw the worst parties in ...
Page 27
... passed away . To Toussaint L'Ouverture . Toussaint , the most unhappy man of men ! Whether the whistling Rustic tend his plough Within thy hearing , or thy head be now Pillowed in some deep dungeon's earless den ; - O miserable ...
... passed away . To Toussaint L'Ouverture . Toussaint , the most unhappy man of men ! Whether the whistling Rustic tend his plough Within thy hearing , or thy head be now Pillowed in some deep dungeon's earless den ; - O miserable ...
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Common terms and phrases
admirable appeared ballads beauty became Blackwood's Magazine born bright Byron called Carlyle character Charles Charles Lamb Church Coleridge critic dark daughter death dream Dublin earth Edinburgh Edinburgh Review edition England English Essays eyes fancy father feeling flowers French genius hand hath heard heart heaven humour Irish John king Lady Lavengro Leigh Hunt letters light literary literature lived London look Lord Lyrical Ballads Memoir mind morning National Portrait Gallery nature never night novels o'er ottava rima passed passion philosophical poems poet poetic poetry political popular prose published romance round Saint Kevin Scotland Scott Scottish seems Shelley Sir Walter Scott song soul Southey spirit story sweet thee things thou thought tion Trinity College truth verse voice vols volumes wild William wonder words Wordsworth writing wrote young youth
Popular passages
Page 428 - The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.
Page 25 - There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, The earth, and every common sight, To me did seem Apparelled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream. It is not now as it hath been of yore; — Turn wheresoe'er I may, By night or day, The things which I have seen I now can see no more.
Page 105 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild ; White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine ; Fast-fading violets cover'd up in leaves ; And mid-May's eldest child, The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
Page 139 - With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat in unwomanly rags Plying her needle and thread — Stitch ! stitch ! stitch ! In poverty, hunger and dirt, And still with a voice of dolorous pitch, Would that its tone could reach the rich ! She sang this "Song of the Shirt.
Page 145 - I do not know what I may appear to the world, but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the sea-shore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me.
Page 104 - O for a draught of vintage, that hath been Cool'da long age in the deep-delved earth, Tasting of Flora...
Page 116 - The breath whose might I have invoked in song Descends on me ; my spirit's bark is driven Far from the shore, far from the trembling throng Whose sails were never to the tempest given ; The massy earth and sphered skies are riven ! I am borne darkly, fearfully, afar ; Whilst burning through the inmost veil of Heaven, The soul of Adonais, like a star, Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are.
Page 67 - My shaping spirit of Imagination. For not to think of what I needs must feel, But to be still and patient, all I can; And haply by abstruse research to steal From my own nature all the natural man — This was my sole resource, my only plan : Till that which suits a part infects the whole, And now is almost grown the habit of my soul.
Page 104 - MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, > Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk...
Page 17 - That on a wild secluded scene impress Thoughts of more deep seclusion ; and connect The landscape with the quiet of the sky.