Little Journeys to the Homes of the Great - Volume 05 Little Journeys to the Homes of English Authors By: Elbert Hubbard (1856-1915) |
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Little Journeys to the Homes of the Great - Volume 05 Little Journeys to the Homes of English Authors by Elbert Hubbard is a fascinating exploration of the lives and homes of some of England's most famous literary figures. From Shakespeare to Dickens, Hubbard's vivid prose brings these iconic authors to life, offering readers a glimpse into their personal spaces and the inspirations behind their work.
Hubbard's writing is engaging and informative, providing readers with a wealth of historical context and insight into the creative process of each author. His reverence for these literary giants is palpable, making this volume a joy to read for anyone interested in English literature.
What sets this book apart is Hubbard's unique approach to storytelling, blending biography with travelogue to create a rich tapestry of the author's lives and homes. Readers will feel as though they are walking in the footsteps of these great writers, gaining a deeper appreciation for their enduring legacies.
Overall, Little Journeys to the Homes of English Authors is a captivating read that will appeal to literature lovers and history enthusiasts alike. Hubbard's passion for his subjects shines through in every page, making this volume a true delight to read. Little Journeys to the Homes of English Authors by ELBERT HUBBARD New York 1916 CONTENTS WILLIAM MORRIS ROBERT BROWNING ALFRED TENNYSON ROBERT BURNS JOHN MILTON SAMUEL JOHNSON THOMAS B. MACAULAY LORD BYRON JOSEPH ADDISON ROBERT SOUTHEY SAMUEL T. COLERIDGE BENJAMIN DISRAELI WILLIAM MORRIS THE IDLE SINGER Of Heaven or Hell I have no power to sing, I can not ease the burden of your fears, Or make quick coming death a little thing, Or bring again the pleasure of past years, Nor for my words shall ye forget your tears, Or hope again for aught that I can say, The idle singer of an empty day. But rather, when aweary of your mirth, From full hearts still unsatisfied ye sigh, And feeling kindly unto all the earth, Grudge every minute as it passes by, Made the more mindful that the sweet days die, Remember me a little then, I pray, The idle singer of an empty day. Dreamer of dreams, born out of my due time, Why should I strive to set the crooked straight? Let it suffice me that my murmuring rhyme Beats with light wing against the ivory gate, Telling a tale not too importunate To those who in the sleepy region stay, Lulled by the singer of an empty day... Continue reading book >>
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