A Compendium of English Literautre: Chronologically Arranged, from Sir John Mandeville to William Cowper. [Consisting of Biographical Sketches of the Authors, Selections from Their Works, with Notes, Explanatory, Illustrative, and Directing to the Best Editions and to Various Criticisms.] Designed as a Text-book for the Highest Classes in Schools and for Junior Classes in Colleges, as Well as for Private Reading (Google eBook)
E.C. & J. Biddle, 1863
What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Addison admirable appear beauty better blessing born called character Charles II Chaucer Christian church death delight divine doth earth Edinburgh Review England English English language English literature English Poetry excellent eyes Faerie Queene fame father fear genius give grace hand happy hast hath hear heart heaven holy honor hope human Isaac Barrow Italy John Bunyan John Milton king knowledge labor lady language learning light live look Lord Lycidas manner Milton mind moral nature never night noble o'er Paradise Lost passion person pleasure poem poet poetical poetry poor Pope praise prince prose published reason religion rich Scripture Shakspeare song soon soul spirit style sublime sweet taste thee things thou thought tion truth unto verse Virgil virtue Westminster school word writings youth
Page 596 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn Or busy housewife ply her evening care : No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke ; How jocund did they drive their team afield ! How...
Page 625 - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild ; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year; Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change, his place.
Page 363 - If a brother or sister be naked, and destitute of daily food, and one of you say unto them, Depart in peace, be ye warmed and filled ; notwithstanding ye give them not those things which are needful to the body; what doth it profit?
Page 137 - Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me; and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye! I feel my heart new open'd. O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes...
Page 266 - Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissant nation rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible locks: methinks I see her as an eagle mewing her mighty youth, and kindling her undazzled eyes at the full mid-day beam...
Page 459 - Oft she rejects, but never once offends. Bright as the sun, her eyes the gazers strike, And, like the sun, they shine on all alike. Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride, Might hide her faults, if Belles had faults to hide ; If to her share some female errors fall, Look on her face, and you'll forget them all.
Page 247 - Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more." Return, Alpheus; the dread voice is past That shrunk thy streams: return, Sicilian Muse, And call the vales, and bid them hither cast Their bells and flowerets of a thousand hues.
Page 625 - Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, And e'en his failings leaned to virtue's side ; But in his duty prompt at every call, He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all ; And, as a bird each fond endearment tries To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Page 523 - How sleep the Brave who sink to rest By all their country's wishes blest! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung; By forms unseen their dirge is sung; There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there!