A History of Modern English Romanticism, Tom 1

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H. Milford, 1924 - 246

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Strona 112 - The Measure is English Heroic Verse without Rime, as that of Homer in Greek, and of Virgil in Latin ; Rime being no necessary Adjunct or true ornament of Poem or good Verse, in longer Works especially, but the Invention of a barbarous Age, to set off wretched Matter and lame Meeter...
Strona 97 - Full oft by holy feet our ground was trod, Of clerks good plenty here you mote espy. A little, round, fat, oily man of God, Was one I chiefly mark'd among the fry : He had a roguish twinkle in his eye, And shone all glittering with ungodly dew, If a tight damsel chaunc'd to trippen by ; Which when observ'd, he shrunk into his mew, And straight would recollect his piety anew.
Strona 110 - Tower, as the deep-domed empyrean Rings to the roar of an angel onset— Me rather all that bowery loneliness, The brooks of Eden mazily murmuring, And bloom profuse and cedar arches Charm, as a wanderer out in ocean, Where some refulgent sunset of India...
Strona 230 - What we have gotten by this revolution, you will say, is a great deal of good sense. What we have lost is a world of fine fabling; the illusion of which is so grateful to the charmed spirit that in spite of philosophy and fashion.
Strona 215 - WHEN I am in a serious humour, I very often walk by myself in Westminster Abbey : where the gloominess of the place, and the use to which it is applied, with the solemnity of the building, and the condition of the people who lie in it, are apt to fill the mind with a kind of melancholy, or rather thoughtfulness that is not disagreeable.
Strona 94 - I don't know how it is, but she said very right : there is something in Spenser that pleases one as strongly in one's old age, as it did in one's youth. I read the Faerie Queene, when I was about twelve, with infinite delight; and I think it gave me as much, when I read it over about a year or two ago.
Strona 72 - The English have only to boast of Spenser and Milton, who neither of them wanted either genius or learning to have been perfect poets, and yet both of them are liable to many censures.
Strona 216 - But o'er the twilight groves, and dusky caves, Long-sounding aisles and intermingled graves, Black Melancholy sits, and round her throws A death-like silence, and a dread repose : Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene, Shades ev'ry flow'r, and darkens every green, Deepens the murmur of the falling floods, And breathes a browner horror on the woods...
Strona 129 - It is not therefore sufficient, that the language of an epic poem be perspicuous, unless it be also sublime. To this end it ought to deviate from the common forms and ordinary phrases of speech.
Strona 99 - E'en so through Brentford town, a town of mud, A herd of bristly swine is prick'd along; The filthy beasts, that never chew the cud, Still grunt, and squeak, and sing their troublous song, And oft they plunge themselves the mire among...

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