A Book of English Literature, Selected and Ed

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Franklyn Bliss Snyder, Robert Grant Martin
Macmillan, 1916 - 889 pages
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Page 114 - Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested; that is, some books are to be read only in parts, others to be read but not curiously, and some few to be read wholly and with diligence and attention.
Page 73 - When, in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries And look upon myself and curse my fate. Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd, Desiring this man's art and that man's scope.
Page 74 - That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire, That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed, whereon it must expire, Consumed with that...
Page 293 - The notice which you have been pleased to take of my labors, had it been early, had been kind; but it has been delayed till I am indifferent and cannot enjoy it; till I am solitary and cannot impart it; till I am known and do not want it.
Page 73 - Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate That Time will come and take my love away: This thought is as a death, which cannot choose But weep to have that which it fears to lose.
Page 185 - And though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play upon the earth, so Truth be in the field, we do injuriously by licensing and prohibiting to misdoubt her strength. Let her and Falsehood grapple. Who ever knew Truth put to the worse, in a free and open encounter ? Her confuting is the best and surest suppressing.
Page 75 - CXLVI Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth, .... these rebel powers that thee array, Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth. Painting thy outward walls so costly gay? Why so large cost, having so short a lease, Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend? Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body's end? Then, soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss, And let that pine to aggravate thy store; Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross; Within be fed, without be...
Page 345 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath, and near his favourite tree ; Another came : nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he : The next, with dirges due in sad array Slow through the churchway path we saw him borne, Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Page 293 - years, my lord, have now passed since I waited in your outward rooms, or was repulsed from your door; during which time I have been pushing on my work through difficulties of which it is useless to complain, and have brought it at last to the verge of publication, without one act of assistance, one word of encouragement, or one smile of favor Such treatment I did not expect, for I never had a patron before.
Page 73 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste: Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow, For precious friends hid in death's dateless night...

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