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arms barque battle beautiful blank verse blood breath brow Canto child cries Crown 8vo dark dawn dead death deep drama dreadful dream earth East Eastern English evermore eyes face fate father fire flame foam gaze Gilbert glory gold grave hand hast thou hath heard heart heaven hour human immortal JEPHTHAH JOHN LANE kiss LAMBETH light London town lonely maiden Marpessa memories MIDNIGHT GUEST mighty moon mortal murmured never night o'er PANAMA pass peril pillow POEMS poet QUEST OF HAIDEE reeled SANTA CLAUS SARAH BERNHARDT seemed Semele Senlac Hill shore sigh silence soul speak splendid splendour stars Stephen Phillips strange Styx sudden sweet sweetly thee thing Thou art thou didst thou dost thou hast thought thunder to-night TRIPOLI ULYSSES unto VERSES voice wandering wave whate'er whisper whist wild William Archer woman word
Page 66 - The map of Eastern Europe," said Mr Asquith, the British Premier (Nov. 9), "has to be recast, and... the victors are not to be robbed of the fruits which have cost them so dear.
Page 154 - EVERY number of the International Studio contains authoritative articles on the work of artists of established, as well as of rising, fame. The reader is kept informed of exhibitions, museums, galleries and studios in all the important art centres of the world. The illustrations, both in color and halftone, are unequalled in quantity and quality by any other periodical. The subjects discussed each month are: paintings, etchings, drawings, photography, sculpture, architecture, decorations, tapestries,...
Page 157 - Mr. Phillips is a poet, one of the half-dozen men of the younger generation, whose writings contain the indefinable quality which makes for permanence.
Page 158 - Ulysses' is a splendid shower of dazzling jewels flung against gorgeous tapestries that are shaken by the wind of passion. Mr. Stephen Phillips is the greatest poetic dramatist we have had since Elizabethan times." DAILY CHRONICLE.— " Mr. Phillips is, in the fullest sense of the word, a dramatic poet.
Page 160 - A thing of exquisite poetic form, yet tingling from first to last with intense dramatic life. Mr. Phillips has achieved the impossible. Sardou could not have ordered the action more skilfully, Tennyson could not have clothed the passion in words of purer loveliness.
Page 160 - This play is a remarkable achievement, both as a whole and in its parts. It abounds in beautiful passages and beautiful phrases. A man who can write like this is clearly a force to be reckoned with." Mr. OWEN SEAMAN in Morning Post. — " Mr. Phillips has written a great dramatic poem which happens also to be a great poetic drama. We are justified in speaking of Mr. Phillips's achievement as something without parallel in our age.
Page 55 - Shut be our harbours, closed be every port, And from our shore be every alien turned !" Yet while the clamour and pursuit is hot, And public anger public madness breeds, Be it not soon nor easily forgot That England thus an ancient title cedes. For centuries a pillow hath she spread For all that widowed goes, and wandering; And in her lap hath laid the unhappy head Of broken statesman, and of outcast King.
Page 96 - ... But sudden a dry land caught fire like grass, And answer hurtled but from shell and steel. He looked for silence but a thunder came ; Upon him from Liege a leaden hail ! All Belgium flew up at his throat in flame, Till at her gates amazed his legions quail ! Take heed, for now on haunted ground thy There bowed a mightier War-Lord to his fall ; Fear!
Page 158 - It is a grateful task to discover in the new volume many indications of that truly poetic insight, that vigorous expression of idea, that sense of literary power and mastery which have already made Mr. Stephen Phillips famous. . . . There is a...
Page 50 - Remember Plassey and the lonely Clive ; All India with our English graves inscribed, And that huge Orient by a remnant held ! Remember the ascended river, and height Stormed, and the dubious battle when Wolfe fell, But, reeling, heard the cry, "They run! they run!" Remember the grand clash of Trafalgar, When dying Nelson smelt the rising wind, And, "Anchor, Hardy! anchor, Hardy!