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already ancient Anglo-Saxon appeared beautiful beginning belong called celebrated century changes character chiefly church classical close common composition containing critical described distinguished drama earliest early ecclesiastical effect eloquence England English especially expression fact fancy feeling followed French genius give hand imagination important interest Italy John kind king knowledge known language Latin latter learned less literary literature living manner means middle ages mind moral narrative native nature never Note original passed perhaps period philosophy pieces poems poet poetical poetry popular possessed practical present produced prose questions reason received reflection regard reign relations religious remarkable romances Saxon Scottish sentiment spirit story style success taste things thinking thought tion tongue translations truth verse whole writers written
Page 358 - The night was winter in his roughest mood, The morning sharp and clear. But now at noon Upon the southern side of the slant hills, And where the woods fence off the northern blast, The season smiles, resigning all its rage And has the warmth of May. The vault is blue Without a cloud, and white without a speck The dazzling splendour of the scene below.
Page 355 - In all my wanderings round this world of care, In all my griefs — and God has given my share — I still had hopes, my latest hours to crown, Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down; To husband out life's taper at the close, And keep the flame from wasting by repose...
Page 82 - Or call up him that left half told The story of Cambuscan bold, Of Camball, and of Algarsife, And who had Canace to wife, That owned the virtuous Ring and Glass, And of the wondrous Horse of Brass, On which the Tartar King did ride; And if aught else great Bards beside, In sage and solemn tunes have sung, Of Tourneys and of Trophies hung; Of Forests, and enchantments drear, Wh'ere more is meant than meets the ear.
Page 340 - A stranger yet to pain! I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wing My weary soul they seem to soothe, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring.
Page 341 - Ambition this shall tempt to rise, Then whirl the wretch from high, To bitter Scorn a sacrifice, And grinning Infamy. The stings of Falsehood those shall try And hard Unkindness...
Page 340 - Say, Father Thames, for thou hast seen Full many a sprightly race Disporting on thy margent green The paths of pleasure trace; Who foremost now delight to cleave With pliant arm, thy glassy wave ? The captive linnet which enthral?
Page 219 - ... should, as it were through a languishing faintness, begin to stand and to rest himself ; if the moon should wander from her beaten way ; the times and seasons of the year blend themselves by disordered and confused mixture ; the winds breathe out their last gasp ; the clouds yield no rain ; the earth be defeated of heavenly influence ; the fruits of the earth pine away as children at the withered breasts of their mother, no longer able to yield them relief; what would become of man himself, whom...
Page 286 - Look once more, ere we leave this specular mount, Westward, much nearer by south-west, behold, Where on the ^Egean shore a city stands, Built nobly, pure the air, and light the soil ; Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts And eloquence, native to famous wits Or hospitable, in her sweet recess, City or suburban, studious walks and shades. See there the olive grove of Academe, Plato's retirement, where the Attic bird Trills her thick-warbled notes the summer long; There flowery hill Hymettus, with...
Page 241 - I deny not, but that it is of greatest concernment in the Church and Commonwealth, to have a vigilant eye how books demean themselves as well as men; and thereafter to confine, imprison, and do sharpest justice on them as malefactors.
Page 281 - In me. thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west ; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed whereon it must expire, Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by.