The Modern Language Review, Volume 11

Front Cover
John George Robertson, Charles Jasper Sisson
Modern Humanities Research Association, 1916
The Modern Language Review (MLR) is an interdisciplinary journal encompassing the following fields: English (including United States and the Commonwealth), French (including Francophone Africa and Canada), Germanic (including Dutch and Scandinavian), Hispanic (including Latin-American, Portuguese, and Catalan), Italian, Slavonic and East European Studies, and General Studies (including linguistics, comparative literature, and critical theory).
 

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Page 512 - ... begin the Song of Spring. The Lark sitting upon his earthy bed, just as the morn Appears, listens silent; then springing from the waving Cornfield, loud He leads the Choir of Day: trill, trill, trill, trill, Mounting upon the wings of light into the Great Expanse, Reechoing against the lovely blue & shining heavenly Shell, His little throat labours with inspiration; every feather On throat & breast & wings vibrates with the effluence Divine.
Page 170 - Whene'er with haggard eyes I view This dungeon that I'm rotting in, I think of those companions true Who studied with me at the U — — niversity of Gottingen, — — niversity of Gottingen.
Page 142 - My sister her petition in that force, With that celerity and nature which She makes it in, from henceforth I'll not dare To ask you any thing, nor be so hardy Ever to take a husband.
Page 140 - The prim'st for this proceeding, and the number To carry such a business ; forth and levy Our worthiest instruments ; whilst we dispatch This grand act of our life, this daring deed Of fate in wedlock.
Page 147 - Arcite is gently visag'd ; yet his eye Is like an engine bent, or a sharp weapon In a soft sheath ; mercy and manly courage Are bedfellows in his visage. Palamon Has a most menacing aspect ; his brow Is grav'd, and seems to bury what it frowns on...
Page 217 - Even to a point within our day and night ; And keep thy heart light lest it make thee sink When hope has kindled hope, and lured thee to the brink.
Page 77 - There are some that are not pleased with fiction, unless it be bold ; not only to exceed the work, but also the possibility of nature ; they would have impenetrable armours, enchanted castles, invulnerable bodies, iron men, flying horses, and a thousand other such things, which are easily feigned by them that dare.
Page 119 - MY temples throb, my pulses boil, I'm sick of Song, and Ode, and Ballad — So Thyrsis, take the midnight oil, And pour it on a lobster salad. My brain is dull, my sight is foul, I cannot write a verse, or read, — Then Pallas take away thine Owl, And let us have a Lark instead.
Page 171 - We wonder at ourselves like men betrayed: Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark, And shares the nature of infinity.
Page 251 - Je sens que je peux n'avoir point été : car le moi consiste dans ma pensée ; donc moi qui pense n'aurais point été , si ma mère eût été tuée avant que j'eusse été animé. Donc je ne suis pas un être nécessaire. Je ne suis pas aussi éternel , ni infini ; mais je vois bien qu'il ya dans la nature un être nécessaire , éternel , infini.

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