Orthometry: The Art of Versification and the Technicalities of Poetry, with a New and Complete Rhyming DictionaryJ. Grant, 1908 - 376 sider |
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Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
accented syllables Alexandrine Amphibrach anapestic arrangement Ballad beauty bells blank verse Browning Burns Byron called combination composition consonants couplet Dactylic dark doth dramatic dreams Dryden elisions English poetry English verse examples eyes feet flowers foot heart heaven HEPTAMETER heroic hexameter hiatus honour iambic iambic pentameter instance kind language licences light Longfellow Love's Labour's Lost lyric measure melody metre metrical Milton MONOMETER monosyllables muse night Normal line o'er Obsolete Octameter open vowels Paradise Lost pause pentameter plurals of nouns poems poetic Pope preterites of verbs prose pyrrhic quantity Queen rhythm rhythmic says sestet Shakspere Shakspere's Shelley short sigh singular of verbs sleep song sonnet soul sound specimens speech Spenser spondee stanza sweet Tennyson tercet thee thou thought thunder tongue trochaic trochee unaccented syllables variety versification voice vowel wind Winter's Tale words writers youth
Populære avsnitt
Side 201 - Dis's waggon ! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty ; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath...
Side 232 - GOING TO THE WARS Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
Side 47 - Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow ; vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow— sorrow for the lost Lenore — For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore — Nameless here for evermore.
Side 212 - Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not. — Great God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
Side 209 - Past reason hated, as a swallow'd bait On purpose laid to make the taker mad; Mad in pursuit, and in possession so; Had, having, and in quest...
Side 96 - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
Side 144 - They never fail who die In a great cause : the block may soak their gore ; Their heads may sodden in the sun ; their limbs Be strung to city gates and castle walls — But still their spirit walks abroad. Though years Elapse, and others share as dark a doom, They but augment the deep and sweeping thoughts Which overpower all others, and conduct The world at last to freedom.
Side 38 - Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests; in all time, Calm or convulsed — in breeze or gale or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark heaving, boundless, endless, and sublime — The image of eternity — the throne Of the Invisible ; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made ; each zone Obeys thee ; thou goest forth, dread fathomless alone.
Side 234 - Here lies Fred, Who was alive, and is dead. Had it been his father, I had much rather. Had it been his brother, Still better than another. Had it been his sister, No one would have missed her. Had it been the whole generation, Still better for the nation. But since 'tis only Fred, Who was alive, and is dead, There's no more to be said.
Side 201 - Be not afeard ; the isle is full of noises, Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears, and sometimes voices That, if I then had waked after long sleep, Will make me sleep again : and then, in dreaming, The clouds methought would open and show riches Ready to drop upon me, that, when I waked, I cried to dream again.