English Verse: Specimens Illustrating Its Principles and History

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Raymond Macdonald Alden
H. Holt, 1903 - English language - 459 pages
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Page 274 - Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so ; For, those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow, Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures...
Page 105 - I STOOD in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs ; A palace and a prison on each hand : I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand : A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land Look'd to the winged Lion's marble piles, Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles...
Page 312 - Heaven lies about us in our infancy. Shades of the prison-house begin to close Upon the growing boy; But he beholds the light and whence it flows, He sees it in his joy. The youth who daily farther from the East Must travel, still is Nature's priest, And, by the vision splendid, Is on his way attended. At length the man perceives it die away And fade into the light of common day.
Page 244 - The old order changeth, yielding place to new, And God fulfils Himself in many ways, Lest one good custom should corrupt the world.
Page 222 - Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves ; And ye that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him, When he comes back...
Page 66 - O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou from whose unseen presence the leaves dead. Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing...
Page 280 - I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
Page 193 - Of these the false Achitophel was first, A name to all succeeding ages curst : For close designs and crooked counsels fit, Sagacious, bold, and turbulent of wit, Restless, unfixed in principles and place, In power unpleased, impatient of disgrace ; A fiery soul, which working out its way, Fretted the pigmy body to decay And o'cr-informed the tenement of clay.
Page 139 - With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries ; The honey bags steal from the humble-bees, And, for night-tapers, crop their waxen thighs, And light them at the fiery glowworm's eyes...
Page 50 - Fear death? — to feel the fog in my throat, The mist in my face, When the snows begin, and the blasts denote I am nearing the place, The power of the night, the press of the storm, The post of the foe; Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form, Yet the strong man must go...

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