From Shakespeare to O. Henry: Studies in LiteratureDodd, Mead and Company, 1917 - 305 pagine |
Dall'interno del libro
Risultati 1-5 di 37
Pagina 61
... dead heroes of the type of Charles Sorley , Colwyn Phillips , and countless others . All these are signs that there is a very sure renascence of poetry in our midst , and it is worth while trying to find out what are the leading ...
... dead heroes of the type of Charles Sorley , Colwyn Phillips , and countless others . All these are signs that there is a very sure renascence of poetry in our midst , and it is worth while trying to find out what are the leading ...
Pagina 63
... dead , And I will come again . The men say everywhere that you are faithless , The women say your face is a false face And your eyes shifty eyes . Ah , but I love you , Gormflaith . The following passage sheds an entirely new light on ...
... dead , And I will come again . The men say everywhere that you are faithless , The women say your face is a false face And your eyes shifty eyes . Ah , but I love you , Gormflaith . The following passage sheds an entirely new light on ...
Pagina 69
... dead And vultures flapping overhead . Dreaming things : of days he spent With his mother gaunt and lean In the valley warm and green , Full of baby wonderment Blinking out of silly eyes At a hundred mysteries . and now he is deserted ...
... dead And vultures flapping overhead . Dreaming things : of days he spent With his mother gaunt and lean In the valley warm and green , Full of baby wonderment Blinking out of silly eyes At a hundred mysteries . and now he is deserted ...
Pagina 73
... dead And vultures flapping overhead . Dreaming things : of days he spent With his mother gaunt and lean In the valley warm and green , Full of baby wonderment Blinking out of silly eyes At a hundred mysteries . and now he is deserted ...
... dead And vultures flapping overhead . Dreaming things : of days he spent With his mother gaunt and lean In the valley warm and green , Full of baby wonderment Blinking out of silly eyes At a hundred mysteries . and now he is deserted ...
Pagina 92
... dead And laid away beneath the kindly clay , Set a square stone above my dreamless head , And sign with the cross and signing say : " Here lieth one who loved the steadfast things Of his own land , its gladness and its grace . The ...
... dead And laid away beneath the kindly clay , Set a square stone above my dreamless head , And sign with the cross and signing say : " Here lieth one who loved the steadfast things Of his own land , its gladness and its grace . The ...
Altre edizioni - Visualizza tutto
From Shakespeare to O. Henry: Studies in Literature Stuart Petre Brodie Mais Visualizzazione completa - 1917 |
From Shakespeare to O. Henry: Studies in Literature Stuart Petre Brodie Mais Visualizzazione completa - 1923 |
Parole e frasi comuni
Arnold Bennett artist beauty Brooke's certainly character Compton Mackenzie critics D. H. Lawrence dead death delight Doctor Johnson Donne dramatist dreams earth English Erewhon eternal exquisite eyes feel friends G. K. Chesterton genius girl give heart heaven Henry human imaginative intellectual John Masefield laugh laughter leave less light live lover magic Masefield matter Meredith mind modern never night novel novelist once Othello painting passion picture play poem poet poetry Ralph Hodgson readers realise recognised rest rhyme Richard Middleton Rupert Brooke Samuel Butler seems Shakespeare Shaw shop girl sing song sonnet sort soul spirit stand story sweet tell things thou thought to-day tragedy true truth turn ugliness verse Viola Meynell volume Wilfrid Gibson wind women wonder words write written young youth
Brani popolari
Pagina 253 - If I should die, think only this of me: That there's some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England. There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed ; A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam, A body of England's, breathing English air, Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.
Pagina 29 - Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green ; Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy : Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace : Even so my Sun one early morn did...
Pagina 89 - After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets, After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor — And this, and so much more? — It is impossible to say just what I mean! But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen...
Pagina 15 - tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now ; if it be not now, yet it will come : the readiness is all : Since no man, of aught he leaves, knows, what is't to leave betimes ?
Pagina 89 - I grow old ... I grow old . . . I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled. Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
Pagina 69 - The Old Ships I HAVE seen old ships sail like swans asleep Beyond the village which men still call Tyre, With leaden age o'ercargoed, dipping deep For Famagusta and the hidden sun That rings black Cyprus with a lake of fire...
Pagina 237 - QUINQUIREME of Nineveh from distant Ophir, Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine, With a cargo of ivory, And apes and peacocks, Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine. Stately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus, Dipping through the Tropics by the palmgreen shores, With a cargo of diamonds, Emeralds, amethysts, Topazes, and cinnamon, and gold moidores. Dirty British coaster with a salt-caked smoke stack, Butting through the Channel in the mad March days, With...
Pagina 271 - An elder said as we sat in a flock By the embers in hearthside ease. We pictured the meek mild creatures where They dwelt in their strawy pen, Nor did it occur to one of us there To doubt they were kneeling then. So fair a fancy few would weave in these years ! Yet, I feel, If someone said on Christmas Eve, " Come ; see the oxen kneel " In the lonely barton by yonder coomb Our childhood used to know," I should go with him in the gloom, Hoping it might be so.
Pagina 29 - 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.
Pagina 9 - His wisdom was not, for he knew thee well. Thence came the honeyed corner at his lips, The conquering smile wherein his spirit sails Calm as the God who the white sea-wave whips, Yet full of speech and intershifting tales, Close mirrors of us : thence had he the laugh We feel is thine : broad as ten thousand beeves At pasture...