A History of English Rhythms, Zväzok 1W. Pickering, 1838 - 318 strán (strany) |
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Výsledky 1 - 5 z 35.
Strana 9
... once in comparing the sound of th in this , then , clothes , to loathe - with its sound in thistle , thin , cloths , loath . * The distinction here taken between vocal and whisper letters appears to me important . I once thought it was ...
... once in comparing the sound of th in this , then , clothes , to loathe - with its sound in thistle , thin , cloths , loath . * The distinction here taken between vocal and whisper letters appears to me important . I once thought it was ...
Strana 10
... once sensible to the ear in comparing the sound of azure with that of Ashur . That wh represents the whisper sound of w will , I think , be clear , if we compare the initial sounds of where , when , while , with those of were , wen ...
... once sensible to the ear in comparing the sound of azure with that of Ashur . That wh represents the whisper sound of w will , I think , be clear , if we compare the initial sounds of where , when , while , with those of were , wen ...
Strana 14
... once the semblance of a scar Appall'd , an owlet's larum chill'd with dread , Now views the column - scatt'ring bay'net jar . On a sudden open fly P. L. F. Q. Childe Harold , 1 . With impetuous recoil , and jarring sound Th ' infernal ...
... once the semblance of a scar Appall'd , an owlet's larum chill'd with dread , Now views the column - scatt'ring bay'net jar . On a sudden open fly P. L. F. Q. Childe Harold , 1 . With impetuous recoil , and jarring sound Th ' infernal ...
Strana 15
... once the soil , Bedropt with blood of gorgon . The hoarse night - raven , trump of doleful drere , The leather - winged bat , day's enemy , The rueful strich still waiting on the bier , The whistler shrill that whoso hears doth die ...
... once the soil , Bedropt with blood of gorgon . The hoarse night - raven , trump of doleful drere , The leather - winged bat , day's enemy , The rueful strich still waiting on the bier , The whistler shrill that whoso hears doth die ...
Strana 21
... once observed , to make our language harsh and rough . It cost Milton no trouble to double his consonants , and load his line with rugged syllables , when he described the mighty conflict between his angels . But soon obscur'd with ...
... once observed , to make our language harsh and rough . It cost Milton no trouble to double his consonants , and load his line with rugged syllables , when he described the mighty conflict between his angels . But soon obscur'd with ...
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Časté výrazy a frázy
accented syllable adjective alliteration alliterative couplet Anglo-Saxon poems Anglo-Saxon verse Bonduca Bruce Burns Cadmon Cæd century Chau Chaucer common compound section Comus consonant couplet Cynthia's Revels dialects dipthong dissyllable doth doubt dramatists Drayton elided elision English rhythms eyes final rhime five accents Fletcher four accents gret hallig hath House of Fame Jons King Knightes Tale L'Allegro lable language Latin Layamon Lear letters Lord metre middle pause Milton occasionally Olaus Wormius old English orthography Othello Ploughman poetry poets preposition Prol pronounced pronunciation Puttenham quantity rare rhime rhiming syllables rule Sackville sectional pause short vowel Shrew Siege of Leith six accents sometimes Song sound Spenser substantive thee ther thou three accents triple measure tumbling verse Tusser unaccented syllable verb verse of four verse of six Verses beginning verses of five wæs Wallace word writers
Populárne pasáže
Strana 156 - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it; My part of death no one so true Did share it.
Strana 125 - The ice was here, the ice was there, The ice was all around: It cracked and growled, and roared and howled, Like noises in a swound!
Strana 167 - Where the bee sucks, there suck I; In a cowslip's bell I lie : There I couch when owls do cry, On the bat's back I do fly After summer merrily: Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
Strana 198 - Still to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast ; Still to be powdered, still perfumed: Lady, it is to be presumed, Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound. Give me a look, give me a face; That makes simplicity a grace ; Robes loosely flowing, hair as free : Such sweet neglect more taketh me, Than all the adulteries of art ; They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.
Strana 115 - Poured through the mellow horn her pensive soul ; And dashing soft from rocks around, Bubbling runnels joined the sound : Through glades and glooms the mingled measure stole, Or, o'er some haunted stream, with fond delay, Round a holy calm diffusing, . Love of peace and lonely musing, — In hollow murmurs died away.
Strana 15 - To his bold riot : dreadful was the din Of hissing through the hall, thick -swarming now With complicated monsters...
Strana 233 - Olympian hill I soar, Above the flight of Pegasean wing ! The meaning, not the name, I call ; for thou Nor of the Muses nine, nor on the top Of old Olympus dwell'st ; but...
Strana 16 - The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
Strana 170 - WARRIORS and chiefs! should the shaft or the sword Pierce me in leading the host of the Lord, Heed not the corse, though a king's, in your path : Bury your steel in the bosoms of Gath! Thou who art bearing my buckler and bow, Should the soldiers of Saul look away from the foe, Stretch me that moment in blood at thy feet! Mine be the doom which they dared not to meet. Farewell to others, but never we part, Heir to my royalty, son of my heart!
Strana 245 - I see before me the gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand ; his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his drooped head sinks gradually low ; And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower ; and now The arena swims around him ; he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won.