Masterpieces in English Literature

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1874
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Page 185 - The splendor falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story: The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory, Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Page 236 - Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissant nation rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible locks. Methinks I see her as an eagle mewing her mighty youth, and kindling her undazzled eyes at the full mid-day beam...
Page 128 - Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still, And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, Which was not so before. There's no such thing: It is the bloody business which informs Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the...
Page 383 - The glory of his nostrils is terrible. He paweth in the valley and rejoiceth in his strength: He goeth on to meet the armed men. He mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted; Neither turneth he back from the sword. The quiver rattleth against him, the glittering spear and the shield. He swalloweth the ground with fierceness and rage: Neither believeth he that it is the sound of the trumpet. He saith among the trumpets, Ha, ha; And he smelleth the battle afar off, the thunder of the captains, and the...
Page 185 - For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE ; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.
Page 185 - Golden bells ! What a world of happiness their harmony foretells! Through the balmy air of night How they ring out their delight ! From the molten-golden notes, And all in tune, What a liquid ditty floats To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats On the moon!
Page 123 - To plague the inventor ; this even-handed Justice Commends the ingredients of our poisoned chalice To our own lips. He's here in double trust : First, as I am his kinsman and his subject. Strong both against the deed ; then, as his host, Who should against his murderer shut the door, Not bear the knife myself.
Page 120 - Come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full Of direst cruelty ! make thick my blood, Stop up the access and passage to remorse, That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between The effect and it...
Page 122 - This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve By his loved mansionry that the heaven's breath Smells wooingly here : no jutty,* frieze, Buttress, nor coign* of vantage, but this bird Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle : Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed The air is delicate.
Page 300 - See that ye refuse not him that speaketh : for if they escaped not who refused him that spake on earth, much more shall not we escape, if we turn away from him that speaketh from heaven...

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