English Prose and Verse from Beowulf to StevensonHenry Spackman Pancoast H. Holt, 1915 - 816 sider |
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Side xviii
... dead The Battle of Blenheim .. 495 ( From the Giaour ) ......... .. 508 The Well of St. Keyne ... 495 The Destruction of Sennacherib . 509 My Days among the Dead are Passed .. 496 Oh ! Snatch'd away in Beauty's Bloom .. 509 SIR WALTER ...
... dead The Battle of Blenheim .. 495 ( From the Giaour ) ......... .. 508 The Well of St. Keyne ... 495 The Destruction of Sennacherib . 509 My Days among the Dead are Passed .. 496 Oh ! Snatch'd away in Beauty's Bloom .. 509 SIR WALTER ...
Side 5
... dead was the fiend , the fight at Heorot Had laid him low . The lifeless body Sprang from the blows of Beowulf's sword , As fiercely he hacked the head from the carcass . But the men who were watching the water with Hrothgar 1595 ...
... dead was the fiend , the fight at Heorot Had laid him low . The lifeless body Sprang from the blows of Beowulf's sword , As fiercely he hacked the head from the carcass . But the men who were watching the water with Hrothgar 1595 ...
Side 13
... dead life 120 That is lent us on land . I believe not that earth - blessings Ever abide . Ever of three things one , To each ere the severing hour : Old age , sickness , or slaughter , Will force the doomed soul to depart . Therefore ...
... dead life 120 That is lent us on land . I believe not that earth - blessings Ever abide . Ever of three things one , To each ere the severing hour : Old age , sickness , or slaughter , Will force the doomed soul to depart . Therefore ...
Side 48
... dead to be interred with great pomp ; granting the enemy the liberty of doing the like , if they 25 thought proper . He sent the body of Harold to his mother , who begged it , unransomed ; though she proffered large sums by her mes ...
... dead to be interred with great pomp ; granting the enemy the liberty of doing the like , if they 25 thought proper . He sent the body of Harold to his mother , who begged it , unransomed ; though she proffered large sums by her mes ...
Side 81
... dead , from heartės charitie ; To a lost vessel likened might I be ; For many a wight abouté me dwelling , Heard I me blame and put in díspraising . 78 80 83 ... 106 Some time I thought as lite as any man , For to have fallen in that ...
... dead , from heartės charitie ; To a lost vessel likened might I be ; For many a wight abouté me dwelling , Heard I me blame and put in díspraising . 78 80 83 ... 106 Some time I thought as lite as any man , For to have fallen in that ...
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English Prose and Verse from Beowulf to Stevenson Henry Spackman Pancoast Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1915 |
English Prose and Verse from Beowulf to Stevenson Henry Spackman Pancoast Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1915 |
English Prose and Verse from Beowulf to Stevenson Henry Spackman Pancoast Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1915 |
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
Allan-a-Dale Bargrave battle beauty behold Beowulf Binnorie Boethius breast breath called dark dead dear death delight doth dread Duke of Bedford earth England English eyes fair father fear fire flowers glory grace hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven holy honour hour king King Arthur lady land Layamon learning leave light live look Lord mind morning nature never night noble o'er pain pass pleasure poem poet poor praise pray pride prince quoth rich round Saladin Shakespeare sigh sight sing Sir Bedivere Sir Ector Sir Kay Sir Lucan Sir Mordred sleep song sorrow soul spirit sweet sword tears tell thee thine things thou art thought Timor Mortis conturbat tion Twas unto Veal ween weep wind wise words youth
Populære avsnitt
Side 429 - 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 306 - Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, And without sneering, teach the rest to sneer; Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike, Just hint a fault and hesitate dislike...
Side 521 - I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain, when with never a stain The pavilion of Heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams Build up the blue dome of air, 80 ••I silently laugh at my own cenotaph.
Side 494 - Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! A savage place! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover! And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, A...
Side 494 - Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me, That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome ! those caves of ice ! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware ! Beware ! His flashing eyes, his floating hair ! Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise.
Side 480 - What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower ; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind...
Side 497 - I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied : Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide ; And now am I come, with this lost love of mine To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. There are maidens in Scotland, more lovely by far, That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar...
Side 509 - And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal; And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!
Side 163 - Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date...
Side 519 - Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce, My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth! And, by the incantation of this verse, Scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind! Be through my lips to unawakened earth The trumpet of a prophecy ! O, Wind, If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?