An Introduction to PoetryMacmillan, 1923 - 524 psl. |
Knygos viduje
Rezultatai 1–5 iš 46
1 psl.
... passes not away . Captains and conquerors leave a little dust , And kings a dubious legend of their reign ; The swords of Cæsars , they are less than rust : The poet doth remain . William Watson : " Lachrimæ Musarum " " THE future of ...
... passes not away . Captains and conquerors leave a little dust , And kings a dubious legend of their reign ; The swords of Cæsars , they are less than rust : The poet doth remain . William Watson : " Lachrimæ Musarum " " THE future of ...
2 psl.
... passing away . Although , strangely enough , no one suggests that poetry is something we have outgrown , there are nevertheless many who assert that we have outgrown much of the poetry which preceding generations thought great . This is ...
... passing away . Although , strangely enough , no one suggests that poetry is something we have outgrown , there are nevertheless many who assert that we have outgrown much of the poetry which preceding generations thought great . This is ...
14 psl.
... pass upon living poets , no man knows . We do not , however , wish the reader of this volume to rest under the misconception that poetry is something written only by the dead . Consequently , in full knowledge of our liability to error ...
... pass upon living poets , no man knows . We do not , however , wish the reader of this volume to rest under the misconception that poetry is something written only by the dead . Consequently , in full knowledge of our liability to error ...
57 psl.
... passes out of the more primitive stages of civilization , the connection between music and poetry becomes less and less intimate . Poems gradually cease to be sung , although for a time they are chanted much as a negro preacher of the ...
... passes out of the more primitive stages of civilization , the connection between music and poetry becomes less and less intimate . Poems gradually cease to be sung , although for a time they are chanted much as a negro preacher of the ...
59 psl.
... passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self - same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth , when , sick for home , She stood in tears amid the alien corn : The THE SONG 59.
... passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self - same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth , when , sick for home , She stood in tears amid the alien corn : The THE SONG 59.
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Alfred Noyes American poets Amy Lowell anapestic beauty blank verse breath Browning Burns Byron called contemporary couplet dactylic Danny Deever dark dead death Dobson doth dream earth Edgar Lee Masters Edwin Arlington Robinson Elegy England English poetry eyes fair feet flowers following poem free verse glory Gray hath hear heart heaven heroic couplet hills Hymn iambic iambic pentameter John John Masefield Keats King Kipling lady land light verse lines Longfellow Lord lyric Maryland Masefield melody meter Milton never night o'er poet poet's poetic prose quatrain quote rhyme rhythm rime Ring Robert romantic rose Shakespeare sing sleep song sonnet soul sound stanza stars sweet syllables tell Tennyson thee thine things thou thought trees trochaic vers de société Whitman wild William William Wordsworth wind words Wordsworth write written wrote
Populiarios ištraukos
91 psl. - Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul.
419 psl. - But now I only hear Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, Retreating, to the breath Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear And naked shingles of the world. Ah, love, let us be true To one another ! for the world, which seems To lie before us like a land of dreams, So various, so beautiful, so new, Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain ; And we are here as on a darkling plain Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, Where ignorant...
70 psl. - She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes:''* Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
419 psl. - Listen! you hear the grating roar Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling At their return, up the high strand, Begin, and cease, and then again begin, With tremulous cadence slow, and bring The eternal note of sadness in.
48 psl. - Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord : He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword : His truth is marching on.
207 psl. - Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind, The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide. To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride With incense kindled at the Muse's flame.
44 psl. - My native country, thee, Land of the noble free, Thy name I love! I love thy rocks and rills, Thy woods and templed hills, My heart with rapture thrills Like that above!
271 psl. - Homer ruled as his demesne ; Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold : Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken ; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific — and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise — Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
56 psl. - By the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood, And fired the shot heard round the world. The foe long since in silence slept; Alike the conqueror silent sleeps; And Time the ruined bridge has swept Down the dark stream which seaward creeps. On this green bank, by this soft stream, We set today a votive stone; That memory may their deed redeem, When, like our sires, our sons are gone. Spirit, that made those heroes dare To die,...
98 psl. - Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honor more.