The Writing and Reading of VerseD. Appleton, 1923 - 327 psl. |
Knygos viduje
Rezultatai 15 iš 56
4 psl.
... eye ; there- fore it must be read before it can be discussed.1 Let our first point of view be that anyone may read verse as he will , and that the task of the student is to observe and record how verse has been read . Taste , of course ...
... eye ; there- fore it must be read before it can be discussed.1 Let our first point of view be that anyone may read verse as he will , and that the task of the student is to observe and record how verse has been read . Taste , of course ...
15 psl.
... eyes stíll . ( Keats : Endymion . ) ( Ibid . ) Keên , crúel , pérceant , stínging , shé as well . And tén low words ôft creep in óne dûll line . ( Pope : Essay on Criticism . ) O'er bóg or steép , through straft , rough dénse , or ráre ...
... eyes stíll . ( Keats : Endymion . ) ( Ibid . ) Keên , crúel , pérceant , stínging , shé as well . And tén low words ôft creep in óne dûll line . ( Pope : Essay on Criticism . ) O'er bóg or steép , through straft , rough dénse , or ráre ...
44 psl.
... eyes of the storm - bird , scorning Now no longer the loud wind's warning , Waves that threaten or waves that fawn . This elaborate symmetry of arrangement makes a sort of verse - tune . It is , of course , a necessity in verse written ...
... eyes of the storm - bird , scorning Now no longer the loud wind's warning , Waves that threaten or waves that fawn . This elaborate symmetry of arrangement makes a sort of verse - tune . It is , of course , a necessity in verse written ...
46 psl.
... eyes did | gaze on me , | Burning yet tender ; And as the white stars shine , On the dark | Norway pine , On that dark | heart of mine Fell their soft | splendor . Longfellow has borrowed his rhythmic and stanzaic pattern from Drayton's ...
... eyes did | gaze on me , | Burning yet tender ; And as the white stars shine , On the dark | Norway pine , On that dark | heart of mine Fell their soft | splendor . Longfellow has borrowed his rhythmic and stanzaic pattern from Drayton's ...
63 psl.
... at thy side , and ten thousand at thy right hand ; but it shall not come nigh thee . 8. Only with thine eyes shalt thou be hold and see the reward of the wicked , 9. Because thou hast made the Lord , which is 63 PROSE AND VERSE.
... at thy side , and ten thousand at thy right hand ; but it shall not come nigh thee . 8. Only with thine eyes shalt thou be hold and see the reward of the wicked , 9. Because thou hast made the Lord , which is 63 PROSE AND VERSE.
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
alexandrine Alfred Noyes alliteration anapestic antistrophe ballade blank verse Browning century cesura Chapter consonants couplet dactylic dactylic movement dimeter direct attack dissyllabic divisions duple duple rhythm duple-triple rhythm effect emphasis English verse enjambment example extra accents eyes foot four free verse give heptameter heroic hexameter iambic movement iambic pentameter iambic-anapestic imitative Keats light stresses line stanzas melody meter metrical metrist Milton monotony night o'er occur octameter odes Paradise Lost passage pause pentameter phrasing Pindaric poem poetry poets Pope quatrains quoted reader refrain repetition rhythmical pattern rhythmical prose rime scheme Rossetti scansion sense Shelley Song sonnet sound stanza stanza form sweet Swinburne Swinburne's syllables Tennyson tetrameter thee thou thought tone-color trimeter triple rhythm trisyllabic feet trochaic trochaic movement tune unrimed unstressed syllable variation varied vers libre vowel wind words writing written X X X X X
Populiarios ištraukos
305 psl. - I BRING fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams ; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun.
82 psl. - Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more.
98 psl. - Thou wilt not leave us in the dust: Thou madest man, he knows not why, He thinks he was not made to die; And thou hast made him: thou art just.
100 psl. - THE skies they were ashen and sober; The leaves they were crisped and sere, The leaves they were withering and sere; It was night in the lonesome October Of my most immemorial year ; It was hard by the dim lake of Auber, In the misty mid region of Weir: It was down by the dank tarn of Auber, In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.
313 psl. - When did music come this way? Children dear, was it yesterday? Children dear, was it yesterday (Call yet once) that she went away? Once she sate with you and me, On a red gold throne in the heart of the sea, And the youngest sate on her knee. She combed its bright hair, and she tended it well, When down swung the sound of a far-off bell.
88 psl. - Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow sorrow for the lost Lenore, For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore, Nameless here for evermore.
229 psl. - A Sonnet is a moment's monument, Memorial from the Soul's eternity To one dead deathless hour. Look that it be. Whether for lustral rite or dire portent, Of its own arduous fulness reverent : Carve it in ivory or in ebony, As Day or Night may rule ; and let Time see Its flowering crest impearled and orient. A Sonnet is a coin : its face reveals The soul, its converse, to what Power 'tis due ; Whether for tribute to the august appeals Of Life, or dower in Love's high retinue.
153 psl. - When Earth's last picture is painted, and the tubes are twisted and dried, When the oldest colors have faded, and the youngest critic has died, We shall rest, and, faith, we shall need it lie down for an aeon or two, Till the Master of All Good Workmen shall set us to work anew!
128 psl. - I CHATTER over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles, I bubble into eddying bays, I babble on the pebbles. With many a curve my banks I fret By many a field and fallow, And many a fairy foreland set With willow-weed and mallow.
312 psl. - COME, dear children, let us away; Down and away below! Now my brothers call from the bay, Now the great winds shoreward blow, Now the salt tides seaward flow; Now the wild white horses play, Champ and chafe and toss in the spray. Children dear, let us away! This way, this way! Call her once before you go. Call once yet! In a voice that she will know: "Margaret! Margaret!