A Book of Poetry Illustrative of English History, Page 1G. Dowse Macmillan & Company, 1908 - English poetry |
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Page 15
... armour from the gods , And o'er the field it bore him like a wind . What meant that armour ? Duty ! O my lord , The airy gauds that deck us , these depress us : The divine burthen and the weight from God Uplift us THE WHITE SHIP 15 G ...
... armour from the gods , And o'er the field it bore him like a wind . What meant that armour ? Duty ! O my lord , The airy gauds that deck us , these depress us : The divine burthen and the weight from God Uplift us THE WHITE SHIP 15 G ...
Page 34
... armour thou shalt be , And thou shalt lead the forward Thorough the English country . ' Take thee York , ' then said the King , " In stead whereas it doth stand ; I'll make thy eldest son after thee Heir of all Northumberland . ' The ...
... armour thou shalt be , And thou shalt lead the forward Thorough the English country . ' Take thee York , ' then said the King , " In stead whereas it doth stand ; I'll make thy eldest son after thee Heir of all Northumberland . ' The ...
Page 42
... armour bright ; Full twenty hundred Scottish spears All marching in our sight ! ' All men of pleasant Tividale , Fast by the river Tweed . ' ' O , cease your sports ! ' Earl Percy said , ' And take your bows with speed ; ' And now with ...
... armour bright ; Full twenty hundred Scottish spears All marching in our sight ! ' All men of pleasant Tividale , Fast by the river Tweed . ' ' O , cease your sports ! ' Earl Percy said , ' And take your bows with speed ; ' And now with ...
Page 43
... armour shone like gold . 60 ' Show me , ' said he , ' whose men ye be , 65 That hunt so boldly here— That , without my consent , do chase And kill my fallow deer . ' The first man that did answer make , Was noble Percy he , Who said ...
... armour shone like gold . 60 ' Show me , ' said he , ' whose men ye be , 65 That hunt so boldly here— That , without my consent , do chase And kill my fallow deer . ' The first man that did answer make , Was noble Percy he , Who said ...
Page 56
... Armour on armour shone , Drum now to drum did groan , To hear was wonder ; That with the cries they make The very earth did shake , Trumpet to trumpet spake , Thunder to thunder . Well it thine age became , O noble Erpingham , Which did ...
... Armour on armour shone , Drum now to drum did groan , To hear was wonder ; That with the cries they make The very earth did shake , Trumpet to trumpet spake , Thunder to thunder . Well it thine age became , O noble Erpingham , Which did ...
Common terms and phrases
armour arms arrow BARD battle Becket Berold Bishop of Durham blood boar bows brave Chevy Chase Copland cried Crispian crown dear deer doth DURHAM FIELD Earl Douglas Earl Percy Earl Richmond Edited by J. H. Edward Edward III English archers Evesham's plain eyes fair father fear fight fought French land gallant gold hand Harold hath heaven helm Herbert J. H. FOWLER James Douglas KING CANUTE KING HENRY king of France King of Scots king's knight Light Lord Percy MACAULAY'S ESSAY merry England ne'er never Noroway NORTH CAPE o'er old eagle old plural poem Prince Quoth Richard RICHARD II ROSE OF ENGLAND rose so red sail says the King Scotland Scottish Selected and Edited SHAKESPEARE Sir Patrick Spens slain sleep soul spear stood sword tell thee thine thou shalt thy heart Tividale Traditional Ballad trusty Twas vanward White Ship William Witherington words
Popular passages
Page 53 - And rouse him at the name of Crispian. He that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, And say, " To-morrow is Saint Crispian : " Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say, " These wounds I had on Crispin's day.
Page 53 - God's will ! I pray thee, wish not one man more. By Jove, I am not covetous for gold, Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost ; It yearns me not if men my garments wear ; Such outward things dwell not in my desires : But if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive.
Page 53 - Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host, That he which hath no stomach to this fight, Let him depart; his passport shall be made, And crowns for convoy put into his purse: We would not die in that man's company That fears his fellowship to die with us.
Page 55 - Have ever to the sun By fame been raised. And for myself, quoth he, This my full rest shall be ; England ne'er mourn for me Nor more esteem me. Victor I will remain, Or on this earth lie slain ; Never shall she sustain Loss to redeem me.
Page 2 - Such the Bard's prophetic words, Pregnant with celestial fire, Bending as he swept the chords Of his sweet but awful lyre. She, with all a monarch's pride, Felt them in her bosom glow : Rush'd to battle, fought and died ; Dying, hurl'd them at the foe.
Page 50 - This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, Fear'd by their breed and famous by their birth, Renowned for their deeds as far from home, For Christian service and true chivalry, As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's Son, This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land, Dear for her reputation through the world...
Page 25 - Girt with many a baron bold Sublime their starry fronts they rear; And gorgeous dames , and statesmen old In bearded majesty , appear.
Page 54 - This story shall the good man teach his son ; And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered ; We few, we happy few, we band of brothers...
Page 50 - This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land, Dear for her reputation through the world, Is now leas'd out (I die pronouncing it), Like to a tenement or pelting farm : England, bound in with the triumphant sea, Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame, With inky blots, and rotten parchment bonds ; That England, that was wont to conquer others, Hath made a shameful conquest of itself...
Page 22 - 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.