The Lost Beauties of the English Language: An Appeal to Authors, Poets, Clergymen, and Public Speakers

Voorkant
J. W. Bouton, 1874 - 288 pagina's
 

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Pagina 37 - I never heard the old song of Percy and Douglas that I found not my heart moved more than with a trumpet...
Pagina 212 - Unskilful he to note the card Of prudent lore, Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, And whelm him o'er ! Such fate to suffering worth...
Pagina 179 - THE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Pagina 181 - King ! Long live our noble King! God save the King! Send him victorious, Happy and glorious, Long to reign over us ! God save the King!
Pagina 26 - Wi' mair o' horrible and awfu', Which ev"n to name wad be unlawfu'. As Tammie glowr'd, amaz'd, and curious, The mirth and fun grew fast and furious : The piper loud and louder blew ; The dancers quick and quicker flew ; They reel'd, they set, they cross'd, they cleekit, Till ilka carlin swat and reekit, And coost her duddies to the wark, And linket at it in her sark ! Now Tam, O Tam ! had thae been queans, A' plump and strapping in their teens ; Their sarks, instead o...
Pagina 49 - Ye banks and braes and streams around The castle o' Montgomery, Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlie ! There simmer first unfauld her robes, And there the langest tarry ; For there I took the last fareweel O
Pagina 81 - mang the dewy weet ! Wi' spreckl'd breast, "When upward-springing, blythe, to greet, The purpling east. Cauld blew the bitter-biting north Upon thy early, humble birth ; Yet cheerfully thou glinted forth Amid the storm, Scarce rear'd above the parent earth Thy tender form. The flaunting flowers our gardens yield, High shelt'ring woods and wa's maun shield ; But thou, beneath the random bield O' clod or stane, Adorns the histie stibble-field Unseen, alane.
Pagina 109 - I cannot tell, what you and other men Think of this life; but, for my single self, I had as lief not be, as live to be In awe of such a thing as I m,yself.
Pagina 262 - the Deep Voice cried ; ' So long enjoy'd, so oft misused, Alternate, in thy fickle pride, Desired, neglected, and accused ? ' Before my breath, like blazing flax, Man and his marvels pass away, And changing empires wane and wax, Are founded, flourish, and decay. ' Redeem mine hours — the space is brief — While in my glass the sand-grains shiver, And measureless thy joy or grief, When TIME and thou shall part for ever...
Pagina 130 - They'll shape me in your arms, Janet, A dove, but and a swan : And last they'll shape me in your arms A mother-naked man : Cast your green mantle over me— I'll be...

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