The British Poets: Including Translations ...C. Whittingham, 1822 |
À l'intérieur du livre
Résultats 1-5 sur 22
Page 19
... alike ; and their features , to make the imagery perfect , should have been discriminated . We are told , in the same stanza , howtowers are fed . ' But I will no longer look for particular faults ; yet let it be ob- served that the ode ...
... alike ; and their features , to make the imagery perfect , should have been discriminated . We are told , in the same stanza , howtowers are fed . ' But I will no longer look for particular faults ; yet let it be ob- served that the ode ...
Page 26
... Alike the busy and the gay But flutter through life's little day , In Fortune's varying colours dress'd : Brush'd by the hand of rough Mischance , Or chill'd by Age , their airy dance They leave , in dust to rest . 2 Nare per æstatem ...
... Alike the busy and the gay But flutter through life's little day , In Fortune's varying colours dress'd : Brush'd by the hand of rough Mischance , Or chill'd by Age , their airy dance They leave , in dust to rest . 2 Nare per æstatem ...
Page 32
... alike to groan ; The tender for another's pain , The ' unfeeling for his own . Yet , ah ! why should they know their fate , Since sorrow never comes too late , And happiness too swiftly flies ? Thought would destroy their paradise . No ...
... alike to groan ; The tender for another's pain , The ' unfeeling for his own . Yet , ah ! why should they know their fate , Since sorrow never comes too late , And happiness too swiftly flies ? Thought would destroy their paradise . No ...
Page 38
... Alike they scorn the pomp of tyrant Power , And coward Vice , that revels in her chains . When Latium had her lofty spirit lost , They sought , oh Albion ! next , thy sea encircled coast . III . 1 . 12 Far from the Sun and summer gale ...
... Alike they scorn the pomp of tyrant Power , And coward Vice , that revels in her chains . When Latium had her lofty spirit lost , They sought , oh Albion ! next , thy sea encircled coast . III . 1 . 12 Far from the Sun and summer gale ...
Page 70
... alike the ' inevitable hour , The paths of glory lead but to the grave . Nor you , ye Proud , impute to these the fault , If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise , Where through the long - drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing ...
... alike the ' inevitable hour , The paths of glory lead but to the grave . Nor you , ye Proud , impute to these the fault , If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise , Where through the long - drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing ...
Autres éditions - Tout afficher
Expressions et termes fréquents
Alike ancient atque Bard beauteous beauty beneath bliss boast breast breath charms cheerful climes death deeds delight distant E'en Earl Earl of Warwick earth Edge Hill fair fame fate fields flood flowers form'd genius gentle glittering grace Gray Gray's groves hæc hail hand hath heart honour Jago join'd Julius Cæsar King labour Latian lawns lofty Lord LYCIDAS Margaret of Anjou meads mind Muse native Nature's numbers o'er ODIN Petrarch Pindar plain pleasing poem pomp pride quæ race rage reign RICHARD JAGO rise round scene seat of Sir sense shade Shenstone sight Sir Charles Mordaunt smiling Snitterfield Solihull song soul sportive sprightly stanza stream swain sweet taste thee thine THOMAS GRAY thou thought toil train vale verdant verse walls Warwick Warwickshire wave William Shenstone winding wondrous youth
Fréquemment cités
Page 69 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Page 37 - To cheer the shivering native's dull abode. And oft, beneath the odorous shade Of Chili's boundless forests laid, She deigns to hear the savage youth repeat In loose numbers wildly sweet Their feather-cinctured chiefs, and dusky loves. Her track, where'er the goddess roves, Glory pursue, and generous Shame, Th' unconquerable Mind, and Freedom's holy flame.
Page 85 - In vain to me the smiling mornings shine, And reddening Phoebus lifts his golden fire : The birds in vain their amorous descant join, Or cheerful fields resume their green attire. These ears, alas ! for other notes repine ; A different object do these eyes require ; My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine ; And in my breast the imperfect joys expire...
Page 44 - Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes ; Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm ; Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That, hush'd in grim repose, expects his evening prey.
Page 44 - Fill high the sparkling bowl. The rich repast prepare ; Reft of a crown, he yet may share the feast : Close by the regal chair Fell Thirst and Famine scowl A baleful smile upon their baffled guest.
Page 31 - These shall the fury Passions tear, The vultures of the mind, Disdainful Anger, pallid Fear, And Shame that skulks behind ; Or pining Love shall waste their youth, Or Jealousy with rankling tooth That inly gnaws the secret heart, And Envy wan, and faded Care, Grim-visaged comfortless Despair, And Sorrow's piercing dart.
Page 77 - See the wretch, that long has tost On the thorny bed of pain, At length repair his vigour lost, And breathe and walk again : The meanest floweret of the vale, The simplest note that swells the gale, The common sun, the air, the skies, To him are opening paradise.
Page 38 - To him the mighty mother did unveil Her awful face : the dauntless child Stretch'd forth his little arms and smiled. ' This pencil take (she said), whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year : Thine too these golden keys, immortal Boy! This can unlock the gates of joy l Of horror that, and thrilling fears, Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears.
Page 27 - But flutter through life's little day, In Fortune's varying colours drest, Brush'd by the hand of rough mischance, Or chill'd by age, their airy dance They leave, in dust to rest. Methinks I hear in accents low The sportive, kind reply : Poor moralist ! and what art thou ? A solitary fly ! Thy joys no glittering female meets, No hive hast thou of hoarded sweets, No painted plumage to display : On hasty wings thy youth is flown ; Thy sun is set, thy spring is gone — We frolic, while 'tis May.
Page 72 - Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply ; And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die.