An Introduction to PoetryMacmillan, 1923 - 524 páginas |
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Página 2
... thought great . This is natural and inevitable , and no one need regret it . We do not look for exactly the same things in poetry that our Victorian grandparents sought , for our view of life is different from theirs . Each age must ...
... thought great . This is natural and inevitable , and no one need regret it . We do not look for exactly the same things in poetry that our Victorian grandparents sought , for our view of life is different from theirs . Each age must ...
Página 3
... thoughts of man . In this mood we turn from what Wordsworth called the " familiar matter of to - day " to old , unhappy far - off things And battles long ago . We lose ourselves in Camelot with Arthur , Lancelot , and Guinevere , or ...
... thoughts of man . In this mood we turn from what Wordsworth called the " familiar matter of to - day " to old , unhappy far - off things And battles long ago . We lose ourselves in Camelot with Arthur , Lancelot , and Guinevere , or ...
Página 9
... Thoughts that shall live within the general mind ! Deem not the framing of a deathless lay The pastime of a drowsy summer day . But gather all thy powers ... thought ; Then summon back the original glow , and mend The THE STUDY OF POETRY 9.
... Thoughts that shall live within the general mind ! Deem not the framing of a deathless lay The pastime of a drowsy summer day . But gather all thy powers ... thought ; Then summon back the original glow , and mend The THE STUDY OF POETRY 9.
Página 13
... thought Longfellow's " Village Blacksmith ” and Tennyson's " May Queen ” great poems , but to us the former seems too didactic and the latter too sentimental to be great . In the last analysis , no one can tell exactly what makes a poem ...
... thought Longfellow's " Village Blacksmith ” and Tennyson's " May Queen ” great poems , but to us the former seems too didactic and the latter too sentimental to be great . In the last analysis , no one can tell exactly what makes a poem ...
Página 14
... thought Gray a better poet than either Chaucer or Burns . Wordsworth and Tennyson both considered Burns a great poet ; but Wordsworth thought Burns's songs unworthy of him , whereas Tennyson greatly pre- ferred them to his other poems ...
... thought Gray a better poet than either Chaucer or Burns . Wordsworth and Tennyson both considered Burns a great poet ; but Wordsworth thought Burns's songs unworthy of him , whereas Tennyson greatly pre- ferred them to his other poems ...
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Términos y frases comunes
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
Pasajes populares
Página 91 - 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.
Página 419 - 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...
Página 70 - 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.
Página 419 - 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.
Página 48 - 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.
Página 207 - 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.
Página 44 - 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!
Página 271 - 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.
Página 56 - 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,...
Página 98 - 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.