British Classical Authors. Select Specimens of the National Literature of England and America, with Biographical Sketches and an Historical Outline of English Literature. Poetry and ProseGeorge Westermann, 1885 |
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Side xxxviii
... hand of her master . Fielding undertook to ridicule the sunday - school style of Richardson by giving Pamela a brother called Joseph , who , like his namesake in the Bible , likewise emerges triumphantly from temptation . This was the ...
... hand of her master . Fielding undertook to ridicule the sunday - school style of Richardson by giving Pamela a brother called Joseph , who , like his namesake in the Bible , likewise emerges triumphantly from temptation . This was the ...
Side 3
... hand enhaunst ; ( 3 ) The stroke down from her head unto her shoulder glaunst . ( 4 ) Much daunted with that dint her sense was dazd , ( 5 ) round , Yet kindling rage , herselfe she gathered 155 And all at once her beastly bodie raizd ...
... hand enhaunst ; ( 3 ) The stroke down from her head unto her shoulder glaunst . ( 4 ) Much daunted with that dint her sense was dazd , ( 5 ) round , Yet kindling rage , herselfe she gathered 155 And all at once her beastly bodie raizd ...
Side 23
... hand , 325 And bow my knee before his majesty : For Mowbray and myself are like two men That vow a long and weary pilgrimage ; Then let us take a ceremonious leave , And loving farewell , of our several friends . 330 Mar. The appellant ...
... hand , 325 And bow my knee before his majesty : For Mowbray and myself are like two men That vow a long and weary pilgrimage ; Then let us take a ceremonious leave , And loving farewell , of our several friends . 330 Mar. The appellant ...
Side 30
... hand had won : His hands were guilty of no kindred's blood , But bloody with the enemies of his kin . 835 O , Richard , York is too far gone with grief , Or else he never would compare between . K. Rich . Why , uncle , what's the matter ...
... hand had won : His hands were guilty of no kindred's blood , But bloody with the enemies of his kin . 835 O , Richard , York is too far gone with grief , Or else he never would compare between . K. Rich . Why , uncle , what's the matter ...
Side 36
... hand of death . Bushy . More welcome is the stroke of death to me , Than Bolingbroke to England . Lords , fare- well . Green . My comfort is , that heaven will take our souls , And plague injustice with the pains of hell . Boling . My ...
... hand of death . Bushy . More welcome is the stroke of death to me , Than Bolingbroke to England . Lords , fare- well . Green . My comfort is , that heaven will take our souls , And plague injustice with the pains of hell . Boling . My ...
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Almindelige termer og sætninger
appeared arms Ben Jonson blood Boling Bolingbroke breath called Calmar captain Charles Chaucer cried dark daughter dear death doth duke duke of Hereford earl earth England English eyes fair father Faulkl Faulkland fear fire gentleman Ghost give hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven Hengo honour hope Jack Pickersgill Jacob Marley king lady land light live look Lord Malaprop ment mind Monmouth morning nature never night noble Northumberland o'er once Ossulton Pickersgill pleasure poem poet poor prince Queen replied Rich Rienzi round Scotland Scrooge Shakespeare Sir Lucius sleep soon soul spirit stood sweet sword tears tell thee thing thou thought Tiny Tim tion Twas uncle uncle Toby voice wild wind words young Zounds
Populære passager
Side 273 - Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply: And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die. For who, to dumb Forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er...
Side 600 - Tis of the wave and not the rock; 'Tis but the flapping of the sail, And not a rent made by the gale ! In spite of rock and tempest's roar, In spite of false lights on the shore. Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea! Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee.
Side 381 - All the earth and air With thy voice is loud, As, when night is bare, From one lonely cloud The moon rains out her beams, and Heaven is overflowed.
Side 273 - E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, 'Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn...
Side 277 - Sweet smiling village, loveliest of the lawn, Thy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn ; Amidst thy bowers the tyrant's hand is seen, /And desolation saddens all thy green : One only master grasps the whole domain, , And half a tillage stints thy smiling plain...
Side 54 - tis his will : Let but the commons hear this testament, (Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read) And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds, And dip their napkins in his sacred blood ; Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy, Unto their issue.
Side 54 - Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And, sure, he is an honourable man. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, But here I am to speak what I do know. You all did love him once, not without cause; What cause withholds you then to mourn for him ? O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason! — Bear with me; My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar, And I must pause, till it come back to me.
Side 380 - And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride; And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as the spray of the rock/beating surf. And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail; And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
Side 411 - Awake, my soul ! not only passive praise Thou owest ! not alone these swelling tears, Mute thanks and secret ecstasy ! Awake, Voice of sweet song ! Awake, my Heart, awake ! Green vales and icy cliffs, all join my Hymn.
Side 600 - Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart — Go forth, under the open sky, and list To nature's teachings, while from all around — Earth and her waters, and the depths of air — Comes a still voice...