Modern Philology, Volume 4

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University of Chicago Press, 1907 - Electronic journals
Vols. 30-54 include 1932-1956 of "Victorian bibliography," prepared by a committee of the Victorian Literature Group of the Modern Language Association of America.
 

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Page 646 - THIS is the month, and this the happy morn, Wherein the Son of Heaven's eternal King, Of wedded Maid, and Virgin Mother born, Our great redemption from above did bring...
Page 82 - But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks! It is the east, and Juliet is the sun ! — Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she...
Page 651 - I found everywhere there (though my understanding had little to do with all this), and by degrees with the tinkling of the rhyme and dance of the numbers, so that I think I had read him all over before I was twelve years old, and was thus made a poet as irremediably as a child is made an eunuch.
Page 81 - O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear; Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
Page 651 - I believe I can tell the particular little chance that filled my head first with such chimes of verse, as have never since left ringing there...
Page 93 - O my love ! my wife ! Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty : Thou art not conquer'd ; beauty's ensign yet Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, And death's pale flag is not advanced there.
Page 93 - Ah, dear Juliet, Why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe That unsubstantial Death is amorous, And that the lean abhorred monster keeps Thee here in dark to be his paramour?
Page 114 - It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale ; look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east. Night's candles are burnt...
Page 81 - tis not to me she speaks: Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
Page 384 - O'er which lame faith leads understanding blind ; Lest he'd perplex the things he would explain, And what was easy he should render vain. Or if a work so infinite he spann'd, Jealous I was, that some less skilful hand ( Such as disquiet always what is well, And by ill imitating would excel) Might hence presume the whole creation's day To change in scenes, and show it in a play.

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