Englische Epigonenpoesie

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Buchdruckerei der J.G. Cotta'schen Buchhandlung, 1889 - English poetry - 34 pages
 

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Page 4 - Complete in Three Vols. Vol. I. contains the Plays complete, including the doubtful ones; Vol. II. the Poems and Minor Translations, with an Introductory Essay by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE; Vol. III. the Translations of the Iliad and Odyssey. Marlowe's Works. Including his Translations. Edited, with Notes and Introduction, by Col. CUNNINGHAM. One Vol. Massinger's Plays. From the Text of WILLIAM GIFFORD. With the addition of the Tragedy of
Page 47 - I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine : But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood.
Page 1 - THE ILIADS OF HOMER, Prince of Poets, never before in any Language truly translated, with a Comment on some of his chief Places. Done according to the Greek by GEORGE CHAPMAN, with Introduction and Notes by the Rev.
Page 47 - Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night, And for the day confined to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature Are burnt and purged away.
Page 26 - Pity and need Make all flesh kin. There is no caste in blood, Which runneth of one hue, nor caste in tears, Which trickle salt with all ; neither comes man To birth with tilka-mark stamped on the brow, Nor sacred thread on neck. Who doth right deeds Is twice-born, and who doeth ill deeds vile. Give me to drink, my brother ; when I come Unto my quest it shall be good for thee.
Page 10 - Of Heaven or Hell I have no power to sing, I cannot ease the burden of your fears, Or make quick-coming death a little thing, Or bring again the pleasure of past years, Nor for my words shall ye forget your tears, Or hope again for aught that I can say, The idle singer of an empty day.
Page 40 - Hear the sledges with the bells — Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight...
Page 17 - Dunciad ' is going to be printed in all pomp, with the inscription, which makes me proudest. It will be attended with proeme, prolegomena, testimonia scriptorum, index authorum, and notes variorum. As to the latter, I desire you to read over the text, and make a few in any way you like best ; whether dry raillery, upon the style and way of commenting of trivial critics ; or...

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