Specimens of English poetry. For the use of Charterhouse school (Google eBook)

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Taylor and Francis, 1867 - English poetry - 315 pages
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Page 106 - Fancy's child, Warble his native wood-notes wild. And ever, against eating cares, Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse, Such as the meeting soul may pierce, In notes with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out 140 With wanton heed and giddy cunning, The melting voice through mazes running, Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony ; That Orpheus...
Page 145 - All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Page 146 - With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances ; And so he plays his part The sixth age shifts Into the lean and...
Page 53 - E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, 'Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn...
Page 258 - Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin his control Stops with the shore ; upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy...
Page 75 - How often have I blest the coming day, When toil remitting lent its turn to play, And all the village train, from labour free, Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree...
Page 234 - My boast is not that I deduce my birth From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth ; But higher far my proud pretensions rise The son of parents passed into the skies.
Page 143 - 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 ; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother ; be he ne'er so vile, This day shall gentle his condition : And gentlemen in England, now a-bed, Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here ; And hold their manhoods cheap, whiles any speaks That fought with us upon saint...
Page 258 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore ; There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep sea, and music in its roar : I love not man the less, but nature more...
Page 109 - Save the cricket on the hearth, Or the bellman's drowsy charm To bless the doors from nightly harm. Or let my lamp, at midnight hour, Be seen in some high lonely tower, Where I may oft outwatch the Bear, With...

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