Literary Criticism for Students

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Edward Tompkins McLaughlin
H. Holt, 1893 - 236 páginas
 

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Página 140 - These are the forgeries of jealousy: And never, since the middle summer's spring, Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead, By paved fountain or by rushy brook, Or in the beached margent of the sea, To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind, But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport.
Página 50 - ... the primary laws of our nature: chiefly, as far as regards the manner in which we associate ideas in a state of excitement.
Página 221 - If all the pens that ever poets held Had fed the feeling of their masters' thoughts, And every sweetness that inspired their hearts, Their minds and muses on admired themes; If all the heavenly quintessence they still From their immortal flowers of poesy, Wherein as in a mirror we perceive The highest reaches of a human wit; If these had made one poem's period...
Página x - Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon, Making night hideous, and we fools of nature, So horridly to shake our disposition, With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls ? Say, why is this ? wherefore ? what should we do ? [Ghost beckons HAMLET.
Página 140 - I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where ox-lips and the nodding violet grows ; Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine...
Página 92 - It may be safely affirmed that there neither is, nor can be, any essential difference between the language of prose and metrical composition.
Página 108 - On the stage we see nothing but corporal infirmities and weakness, the impotence of rage; while we read it, we see not Lear, but we are Lear, — we are in his mind, we are sustained by a grandeur which baffles the malice of daughters and storms...
Página 86 - And the sad augurs mock their own presage ; Incertainties now crown themselves assured And peace proclaims olives of endless age. Now with the drops of this most balmy time My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes, Since, spite of him, I '11 live in this poor rhyme, "While he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes : And thou in this shalt find thy monument, When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent CVIII.
Página 11 - ... upon themselves care and industry; they did nothing rashly: they obtained first to write well, and then custom made it easy and a habit.
Página 168 - Or is it some more humble lay, Familiar matter of to-day? Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, That has been, and may be again!

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