The Treatment of Nature in English Poetry Between Pope and Wordsworth

כריכה קדמית
University of Chicago Press, 1909 - 388 עמודים
 

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קטעים בולטים

עמוד 353 - The grand transition, that there lives and works A soul in all things, and that soul is God.
עמוד 161 - The schoolboy, wandering through the wood To pull the primrose gay, Starts, the new voice of Spring to hear, And imitates thy lay. What time the pea puts on the bloom Thou fliest thy vocal vale, An annual guest in other lands, Another Spring to hail. Sweet bird ! thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear ; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year!
עמוד 256 - His Gardens next your admiration call, On ev'ry side you look, behold the Wall! No pleasing Intricacies intervene, No artful wildness to perplex the scene; Grove nods at grove, each Alley has a brother, And half the platform just reflects the other.
עמוד 104 - Be full, ye courts ; be great who will : Search for peace with all your skill : Open wide the lofty door, Seek her on the marble floor. In vain...
עמוד 118 - O Lady! we receive but what we give And in our life alone does Nature live: Ours is her wedding garment, ours her shroud! And would we aught behold of higher worth, Than that inanimate cold world allowed To the poor loveless ever-anxious crowd, Ah! from the soul itself must issue forth A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud Enveloping the Earth...
עמוד 30 - O could I flow like thee, and make thy stream My great example, as it is my theme! Though deep, yet clear, though gentle, yet not dull, Strong without rage, without o'er-flowing full.
עמוד 170 - All that the genial ray of morning gilds, And all that echoes to the song of even, All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, And all 'the dread magnificence of heaven, O how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven ! X.
עמוד 251 - The Tower of Babel, not yet finished. St. George in box : his arm scarce long enough, but will be in a condition to stick the dragon by next April.
עמוד 199 - How sweet the tuneful bells responsive peal ! As when, at opening morn, the fragrant breeze Breathes on the trembling sense of wan disease, So piercing to my heart their force I feel ! And hark ! with lessening cadence now they fall, And now along the white and level tide They fling their melancholy music wide, Bidding me many a tender thought recall Of...
עמוד 212 - Arcadian plain. Pure stream, in whose transparent wave My youthful limbs I wont to lave ; No torrents stain thy limpid source, No rocks impede thy dimpling course, That sweetly warbles o'er its bed, With white round polished pebbles spread...

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