A Dictionary of Quotations from English and American Poets |
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... death are given , with the authors ' names , in an Index showing the quotations from each writer . In long poems the lines have been counted , and the extracts verified by a reference to the exact passage . It is believed that by these ...
... death are given , with the authors ' names , in an Index showing the quotations from each writer . In long poems the lines have been counted , and the extracts verified by a reference to the exact passage . It is believed that by these ...
Page 2
... death to those who love ? 10 Pope : Eloisa to A. Line 189 Pope : Autumn . Line 27 Where'er I roam , whatever realms to see , My heart untravell'd , fondly turns to thee ; Still to my brother turns , with ceaseless pain , And drags at ...
... death to those who love ? 10 Pope : Eloisa to A. Line 189 Pope : Autumn . Line 27 Where'er I roam , whatever realms to see , My heart untravell'd , fondly turns to thee ; Still to my brother turns , with ceaseless pain , And drags at ...
Page 27
... Death to his publisher , to him ' tis sport . 251 - St. 75 . Byron : Don Juan . Canto v . St. 52 At Learning's fountain it is sweet to drink , But ' tis a nobler privilege to think ; And oft , from books apart , the thirsting mind May ...
... Death to his publisher , to him ' tis sport . 251 - St. 75 . Byron : Don Juan . Canto v . St. 52 At Learning's fountain it is sweet to drink , But ' tis a nobler privilege to think ; And oft , from books apart , the thirsting mind May ...
Page 30
... Death of the Flowers Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson , Yet our full - leaved willows are in their freshest green . Such a kindly autumn , so mercifully dealing With the growths of summer , I never yet have seen ...
... Death of the Flowers Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson , Yet our full - leaved willows are in their freshest green . Such a kindly autumn , so mercifully dealing With the growths of summer , I never yet have seen ...
Page 34
... death , was mute ; Stroke , and thrust , and flash , and cry For quarter , or for victory Mingle there with the volleying thunder . 304 Byron : Siege of Cor . St. 24 No dread of death - if with us die our foes — Save that it seems even ...
... death , was mute ; Stroke , and thrust , and flash , and cry For quarter , or for victory Mingle there with the volleying thunder . 304 Byron : Siege of Cor . St. 24 No dread of death - if with us die our foes — Save that it seems even ...
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Common terms and phrases
beauty breath bright Butler Byron Cæsar Canto Churchill clouds Cowper dark dead death Don Juan doth dream Dryden earth Epis eyes Fables fair fear Festus flowers fool George Eliot give glory Goldsmith grace grave grief grow Hamlet hand hast hath heart heaven Henry Vaughan Henry VI Henry VIII honor hour Hudibras INDEX TO QUOTATIONS Jean Ingelow Joanna Baillie King King Lear kiss light Line live Longfellow look Lost Love's Macbeth Milton mind Moral Essays morning nature ne'er never Night Thoughts numbers o'er Othello pain passion peace pleasure Pope praise Richard Richard III Robert Browning Satire Shaks shine sigh silent sleep smile song Sonnet sorrow soul stars sweet T. B. Aldrich tears Tennyson thine things Thomson thou art tongue truth Venice virtue William Cullen Bryant wind wings wise woman words Young
Popular passages
Page 6 - Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man ; to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honors thick upon him ; The third day, comes a frost, a killing frost ; And — when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Page 339 - MAY MORNING. Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire Mirth, and youth, and warm desire ; Woods and groves are of thy dressing, Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and wish thee long.
Page 525 - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude; 'tis but to hold Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd.
Page 287 - Tis but an hour ago since it was nine ; And after one hour more 'twill be eleven ; And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot ; And thereby hangs a tale.
Page 135 - Coral is far more red than her lips' red: If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound: I grant I never saw a goddess go; My mistress, when she...
Page 48 - Thus with the year Seasons return ; but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; But cloud instead, and everduring dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair Presented with a universal blank Of nature's works, to me expunged and rased, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.
Page 440 - All Nature is but art, unknown to thee All chance, direction, which thou canst not see; All discord, harmony not understood; All partial evil, universal good: And, spite of pride, in erring reason's spite, One truth is clear, Whatever is, is right.
Page 526 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more...
Page 252 - IT must be so — Plato, thou reason'st well ! — Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, This longing after immortality ? Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror, Of falling into nought ? why shrinks the soul Back on herself, and startles at destruction ? 'Tis the divinity that stirs within us ; 'Tis heaven itself, that points out an hereafter, And intimates eternity to man.
Page 433 - More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.