Literary Likings

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Copeland and Day, 1898 - English literature - 384 pages
 

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Page 257 - beautifully ordered by Providence that woman, who is the mere dependent and ornament of man in his happier hours, should be his stay and solace when smitten with sudden calamity, winding herself into the rugged recesses of his nature, tenderly supporting the drooping head, and binding up the broken heart.
Page 190 - O blessed Bird ! the earth we pace Again appears to be An unsubstantial, faery place, That is fit home for thee." Here is spiritualized cheerfulness instead of sorry forecast, bearing out my assertion of the more hopeful interpretation of nature under the reign of Christ. Mention must be made of the two fine ballads, The Battle of Brunanburh and The Battle of Maldon. The former,
Page 239 - to the vanished ladies of another clime and time: " Dear dead women, with such hair too : what's become of all the gold Used to hang and brush their bosoms ? I feel chilly and grown old.
Page 26 - And methought that beauty and terror are only one, not two ; And the world has room for love and death and thunder and dew ; And all the sinews of Hell slumber in summer air; And the face of God is a rock, but the face of the rock is fair. Beneficent streams of tears
Page 293 - To-day the Dahlgren and the drum Are dread Apostles of his Name; His Kingdom here can only come By chrism of blood and flame. "Be strong: already slants the gold Athwart these wild and stormy skies; From out this blackened waste, behold, What happy homes shall rise !
Page 1 - Now I often wonder what I have inherited from this old minister. I must suppose indeed that he was fond of preaching sermons, and so am I, though I never heard it maintained that either of us loved to hear them. He sought health in his youth in the Isle of Wight, and I have sought it in
Page 365 - but my mother forced me, by steady daily toil, to learn long chapters of the Bible by heart; as well as to read every syllable through aloud, hard names and all, from Genesis to
Page 25 - The morning drum-call on my eager ear Thrills unforgotten yet; the morning dew Lies yet undried along my field of noon. But now I pause at whiles in what I do And count the bell, and tremble lest I hear (My work untrimmed) the sunset gun too soon.
Page 17 - words, he should long have practised the literary scales; and it is only after years of such gymnastic that he can sit down at last, legions of words swarming to his call, dozens of turns of phrase simultaneously bidding for his choice, and he himself knowing what he wants to do and (within the narrow limit of a man's ability) able to do it.
Page 265 - Spain by the Patriarch Tubal, 3,797 from the general deluge, 5,453 from the creation of the world, according to Hebrew calculation, and in the month of Rabic, in the 897th year of the Hegira, or flight of Mahomet, — whom may God confound! saith the pious Agapida

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