The British Poets: Including Translations ...C. Whittingham, 1822 |
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Стр. 22
... thy train ! With balmy breath and flowery tread , Rise from thy soft ambrosial bed ; Where , in elysian slumber bound , Embowering myrtles veil thee round . Awake , in all thy glories dress'd , Recall the 22 ENCOMIUMS .
... thy train ! With balmy breath and flowery tread , Rise from thy soft ambrosial bed ; Where , in elysian slumber bound , Embowering myrtles veil thee round . Awake , in all thy glories dress'd , Recall the 22 ENCOMIUMS .
Стр. 34
... breath of the Æolian flute . The subject and simile , as usual with Pindar , are here united . The various sources of poetry , which gives life and lustre to all it touches , are here described ; as well in its quiet majestic progress ...
... breath of the Æolian flute . The subject and simile , as usual with Pindar , are here united . The various sources of poetry , which gives life and lustre to all it touches , are here described ; as well in its quiet majestic progress ...
Стр. 35
... breathing airs , Enchanting shell ! the sullen Cares And frantic Passions hear thy soft control . On Thracia's hills the Lord of War Has curb'd the fury of his car , And dropp'd his thirsty lance at thy command . Perching on the ...
... breathing airs , Enchanting shell ! the sullen Cares And frantic Passions hear thy soft control . On Thracia's hills the Lord of War Has curb'd the fury of his car , And dropp'd his thirsty lance at thy command . Perching on the ...
Стр. 47
... breath , has quench'd the orb of day ? To - morrow he repairs the golden flood , And warms the nations with redoubled ray . Enough for me : with joy I see The different doom our fates assign . Be thine Despair , and sceptred Care , To ...
... breath , has quench'd the orb of day ? To - morrow he repairs the golden flood , And warms the nations with redoubled ray . Enough for me : with joy I see The different doom our fates assign . Be thine Despair , and sceptred Care , To ...
Стр. 50
... . She added to the foundation of Margaret of Anjou . Henry the Sixth and Eighth . The former the founder of King's , the latter the greatest benefactor to Trinity , Col- lege . Sweet is the breath of vernal shower , The bee's 50 GRAY .
... . She added to the foundation of Margaret of Anjou . Henry the Sixth and Eighth . The former the founder of King's , the latter the greatest benefactor to Trinity , Col- lege . Sweet is the breath of vernal shower , The bee's 50 GRAY .
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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
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Стр. 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.
Стр. 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.
Стр. 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...
Стр. 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.
Стр. 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.
Стр. 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.
Стр. 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.
Стр. 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.
Стр. 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.
Стр. 72 - Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply ; And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die.