Anglia: Zeitschrift für englische Philologie, Volumes 49-50

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M. Niemeyer, 1926
 

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Page 346 - Of all the days that's in the week I dearly love but one day — And that's the day that comes betwixt A Saturday and Monday...
Page 16 - Poet, but a verser, because he wrote not fiction : he cursed Petrarch for redacting verses into Sonnets, which, he said, was like that tyrant's bed where some who were too short were racked, others too long cut short.
Page 348 - I'd better be A slave and row a galley; But when my seven long years are out O then I'll marry Sally— O, then we'll wed, and then we'll bed — But not in our alley ! Henry Carey 168. A Farewell Go fetch to me a pint o...
Page 24 - ... the sense does not close with the rhyme at the eighth line, but overflows into the second portion of the metre. Now it has struck me that this is not done merely to gratify the ear by variety and freedom of sound, but also to aid in giving that pervading sense of intense unity in which the excellence of the sonnet has always seemed to me mainly to consist.
Page 161 - Oft in the barns they climbed to the populous nests on the rafters, Seeking with eager eyes that wondrous stone, which the swallow Brings from the shore of the sea to restore the sight of its fledglings ; Lucky was he who found that stone in the nest of the swallow ! Thus passed a few swift years, and they no longer were children.
Page 171 - All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and the sorrow, All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing, All the dull, deep pain, and constant anguish of patience ! And, as she pressed once more the lifeless head to her bosom, Meekly she bowed her own, and murmured,
Page 341 - ... sooty glow, as if, though new, they had been worn a hundred years. Those pairs could only have been made by one who saw before him the Soul of Boot — so truly were they prototypes incarnating the very spirit of all foot-gear.
Page 30 - Of its own arduous fulness reverent: Carve it in ivory or in ebony, As Day or Night may rule ; and let Time see Its flowering crest impearled and orient. A Sonnet is a coin: its face reveals The soul, — its converse, to what Power 'tis due...
Page 245 - THOSE privileged to be present at a family festival of the Forsytes have seen that charming and instructive sight — an upper middle-class family in full plumage. But whosoever of these favoured persons has possessed the gift of psychological analysis (a talent without monetary value and properly ignored by the Forsytes), has witnessed a spectacle, not only delightful in itself, but illustrative of an obscure human problem.
Page 170 - If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, returning Back to their springs, like the rain, shall fill them full of refreshment; That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain. Patience; accomplish thy labor; accomplish thy work of affection!

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