The Cambridge History of English Literature, Volume 6

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Sir Adolphus William Ward, Alfred Rayney Waller
The University Press, 1914
 

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Page 13 - Magnanimity in politics is not seldom the truest wisdom, and a great empire and little minds go ill together.
Page 115 - Will no one tell me what she sings? — Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow For old, unhappy, far-off things And battles long ago; Or is it some more humble lay, Familiar matter of today Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, That has been, and may be again?
Page 114 - The tears into his eyes were brought. And thanks and praises seemed to run So fast out of his heart, I thought They never would have done. — I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds With coldness still returning; Alas! the gratitude of men Hath oftener left me mourning.
Page 9 - Party is a body of men united, for promoting by their joint endeavours the national interest, upon some particular principle in which they are all agreed.
Page 83 - SWEET stream, that winds through yonder glade, Apt emblem of a virtuous maid — Silent and chaste she steals along, Far from the world's gay busy throng...
Page 137 - He was thought to hold, he alone in England, the key of German and other Transcendentalisms; knew the sublime secret of believing by "the reason
Page 101 - For the second class, subjects were to be chosen from ordinary life ; the characters and incidents were to be such as will be found in every village and its vicinity, where there is a meditative and feeling mind to seek after them, or to notice them when they present themselves. In this idea originated the plan of the Lyrical Ballads...
Page 105 - Stern Lawgiver! yet thou dost wear The Godhead's most benignant grace; Nor know we anything so fair As is the smile upon thy face: Flowers laugh before thee on their beds And fragrance in thy footing treads; Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong; And the most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong.
Page 63 - ... it is the greatest happiness of the greatest number that is the measure of right and wrong, been as yet developed.
Page 230 - Writings he has left, seem to us, as we hinted above, no more than a poor mutilated fraction of what was in him; brief, broken glimpses of a genius that could never show itself complete; that wanted all things for completeness: culture, leisure, true effort, nay, even length of life. His poems are, with scarcely any exception, mere occasional effusions; poured forth with little premeditation; expressing...

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