The Glamour of Oxford: Descriptive Passages in Verse and Prose by Various WritersWilliam Angus Knight B. H. Blackwell, 1911 - 263 sider |
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The Glamour of Oxford; Descriptive Passages in Verse and Prose by Various ... William Knight Ingen forhåndsvisning - 2019 |
The Glamour of Oxford; Descriptive Passages in Verse and Prose by Various ... William Knight Ingen forhåndsvisning - 2019 |
The Glamour of Oxford: Descriptive Passages in Verse and Prose by Various ... William Knight Ingen forhåndsvisning - 2018 |
Almindelige termer og sætninger
¹ Balliol ancient Arnold ARTHUR Balliol College beauty bells beneath bowers breath century chapel charm Charmides Cherwell Christ Church Christ Church meadow cloisters dead dear dome dream elms fair flowers FREDERICK WILLIAM FABER friends gardens gleam glory golden green grey groves Hall hath Headington heart HENRY hill hour Iffley Isis JOHN JOHN RICHARD GREEN JOHN WILLIAM MACKAIL learning light lived look Magdalen Bridge Magdalen College Magdalen Tower Mary's Matthew Arnold meadows meadowsweet memory morning muse Newman night o'er once Oriel Oxford pale pass poet quadrangle quiet river round scholar shade Shelley shine silent sleep song soul spires spirit spring stone stream streets summer sweet Thames thee things THOMAS thou thought Thyrsis towers town trees University University of Oxford walk walls WILLIAM LEONARD COURTNEY wind wood young youth
Populære passager
Side 150 - He that hath found some fledged bird's nest may know, At first sight, if the bird be flown ; But what fair well or grove he sings in now, That is to him unknown.
Side 31 - Nothing can be more imposing than the magnificence of English park scenery. Vast lawns that extend like sheets of vivid green, with here and there clumps of gigantic trees, heaping up rich piles of foliage: the solemn pomp of groves and woodland glades, with the deer trooping in silent herds across them...
Side 104 - For early didst thou leave the world, with powers Fresh, undiverted to the world without, Firm to their mark, not spent on other things; Free from the sick fatigue, the languid doubt, Which much to have tried, in much been baffled, brings.
Side 100 - But, mid their drink and clatter, he would fly ; — And I myself seem half to know thy looks, And put the shepherds, wanderer, on thy trace...
Side 98 - Through the thick corn the scarlet poppies peep, And round green roots and yellowing stalks I see Pale blue convolvulus in tendrils creep: And air-swept lindens yield Their scent, and rustle down their perfumed showers Of bloom on the bent grass where I am laid, And bower me from the August sun with shade...
Side 107 - Soon will the high Midsummer pomps come on, Soon will the musk carnations break and swell, Soon shall we have gold-dusted snapdragon, Sweet-William with his homely cottage-smell, And stocks in fragrant blow ; Roses that down the alleys shine afar, And open, jasmine-muffled lattices, And groups under the dreaming garden-trees, And the full moon, and the white evening-star.
Side 132 - Who, if not I, for questing here hath power? I know the wood which hides the daffodil, I know the Fyfield tree, I know what white, what purple fritillaries The grassy harvest of the river-fields, Above by Ensham, down by Sandford, yields, And what sedged brooks are Thames's tributaries; I know these slopes; who knows them if not I?
Side 111 - Middle Age, who will deny that Oxford, by her ineffable charm, keeps ever calling us nearer to the true goal of all of us, to the ideal, to perfection, — to beauty, in a word, which is only truth seen from another side?
Side 108 - Well ! wind-dispersed and vain the words will be, Yet, Thyrsis, let me give my grief its hour In the old haunt, and find our tree-topp'd hill ! Who, if not I, for questing here hath power...
Side 6 - And though he were unsatisfied in getting, (Which was a sin,) yet in bestowing, madam, He was most princely: Ever witness for him Those twins of learning, that he rais'd in you, Ipswich, and Oxford! one of which fell with him, Unwilling to outlive the good that did it; The other, though unfinished, yet so famous, So excellent in art, and still so rising, That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.