The Beginnings of the English Romantic Movement: A Study in Eighteenth Century Literature

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Ginn, 1893 - Počet stran: 192
 

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Strana 164 - On a rock, whose haughty brow Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood, Robed in the sable garb of woe, With haggard eyes the poet stood; (Loose his beard and hoary hair Streamed like a meteor to the troubled air;) And with a master's hand and prophet's fire Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre: 'Hark, how each giant oak and desert cave Sighs to the torrent's awful voice beneath!
Strana 169 - I do not remember to have gone ten paces without an exclamation, that there was no restraining. Not a precipice, not a torrent, not a cliff, but is pregnant with religion and poetry.
Strana 164 - Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds : Save that, from yonder ivy-mantled tower, The moping owl does to the moon complain, Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, Molest her ancient solitary reign.
Strana 124 - The Evergreen. Being a Collection of Scots Poems, Wrote by the Ingenious before 1600.
Strana 179 - When it was grown to dark midnight, And all were fast asleep, In came Margaret's grimly ghost, And stood at William's feet.
Strana 106 - I waked one morning in the beginning of last June from a dream, of which all I could recover was, that I had thought myself in an ancient castle (a very natural dream for a head filled like mine with Gothic story) and that on the uppermost bannister of a great staircase I saw a gigantic hand in armour.
Strana 25 - Time was, like thee, they life possest, And time shall be, that thou shalt rest." Those graves with bending osier bound, That nameless heave the crumbled ground, Quick to the glancing thought disclose Where toil and poverty repose. The flat smooth stones that bear a name, The...
Strana 165 - Ere the ruddy sun be set, Pikes must shiver, javelins sing, Blade with clattering buckler meet, Hauberk crash, and helmet ring. (Weave the crimson web of war) Let us go, and let us fly, Where our Friends the conflict share, Where they triumph, where they die. As the paths of fate we tread, Wading thro' th' ensanguin'd field : Gondula, and Geira, spread O'er the youthful King your shield.
Strana 163 - To Contemplation's sober eye Such is the race of Man: And they that creep, and they that fly, Shall end where they began.
Strana 160 - Bard, two compositions at which the readers of poetry were at first content to gaze in mute amazement. Some that tried them confessed their inability to understand them, though...

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