The English Poets, Том 2Macmillan, 1885 |
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Стр. viii
... Night Piece To Blossoms • To Primroses filled with Morning Dew To Daffadils To Meadows · A Thanksgiving to God The Mad Maid's Song Upon Julia's Clothes Delight in Disorder Art above Nature Cherry - ripe The Bride - Cake · His Prayer to ...
... Night Piece To Blossoms • To Primroses filled with Morning Dew To Daffadils To Meadows · A Thanksgiving to God The Mad Maid's Song Upon Julia's Clothes Delight in Disorder Art above Nature Cherry - ripe The Bride - Cake · His Prayer to ...
Стр. xii
... Night Morning · Spiritual Trimmers Marriage · Amantium Irae • Extracts from Miscellanies : An Apology for Plagiaries Upon the Weakness and Misery of Man Distichs and Saws ( from Hudibras and Miscellanies ) • • 388 · 389 · · 390 393 ...
... Night Morning · Spiritual Trimmers Marriage · Amantium Irae • Extracts from Miscellanies : An Apology for Plagiaries Upon the Weakness and Misery of Man Distichs and Saws ( from Hudibras and Miscellanies ) • • 388 · 389 · · 390 393 ...
Стр. 8
... night . Why should we defer our joys ? Fame and rumour are but toys . Cannot we delude the eyes Of a few poor household spies ? Or his easier ears beguile , Thus removed by our wile ? 1 Compare Catullus , Carmen V. The allusion ( not ...
... night . Why should we defer our joys ? Fame and rumour are but toys . Cannot we delude the eyes Of a few poor household spies ? Or his easier ears beguile , Thus removed by our wile ? 1 Compare Catullus , Carmen V. The allusion ( not ...
Стр. 11
... nights : His morn now riseth and invites To sports , to dances , and delights : All envious and profane , away ! This is the shepherds ' holiday . Second Nymph . Strew , strew the glad and smiling ground With every flower , yet not ...
... nights : His morn now riseth and invites To sports , to dances , and delights : All envious and profane , away ! This is the shepherds ' holiday . Second Nymph . Strew , strew the glad and smiling ground With every flower , yet not ...
Стр. 20
... the drooping stage , Which , since thy flight from hence , hath mourned like night , And despairs day but for thy volume's light . That he that man . = EPITAPH ON THE COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE [ From Underwoods . 20 THE ENGLISH POETS .
... the drooping stage , Which , since thy flight from hence , hath mourned like night , And despairs day but for thy volume's light . That he that man . = EPITAPH ON THE COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE [ From Underwoods . 20 THE ENGLISH POETS .
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Другие издания - Просмотреть все
The English Poets: Selections with Critical Introductions, Том 2 Thomas Humphry Ward Полный просмотр - 1902 |
The English Poets: Selections with Critical Introductions, Том 2 Thomas Humphry Ward Полный просмотр - 1905 |
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
Absalom and Achitophel Æneid beauty Ben Jonson born breast breath bright Carew Castara Comus conceits Cowley crown death delight died divine dost doth Dryden earth EDMUND W English English poetry eternal eyes fair fame fancy fate fear fire flame flowers Giles Fletcher glory Gondibert grace hand happy hast hath heart heaven hell Herbert Herrick hill honour Hudibras Inner Temple Jonson king kiss Lady light live Lord lost Lycidas Milton mind mistress Muse nature never night nymphs o'er once Paradise Paradise Lost Paradise Regained passion Perilla Pindar pleasure poems poet poetic poetry praise pride reign rose sacred shade shepherds shine sighs sight sing sleep song sonnet soul spirit stars sweet tears thee thine things thou thought tree verse Waller wanton weep winds wings write youth
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Стр. 313 - And bring all heaven before mine eyes. And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
Стр. 176 - Why so pale and wan, fond lover ? Prithee, why so pale ? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail ? Prithee, why so pale ? Why so dull and mute, young sinner?
Стр. 14 - DRINK to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Стр. 216 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Стр. 386 - s made To a green thought in a green shade. Here at the fountain's sliding foot, Or at some fruit-tree's mossy root, Casting the body's vest aside, My soul into the boughs does glide : There, like a bird, it sits and sings, Then whets and claps its silver wings, And, till prepared for longer flight, Waves in its plumes the various light.
Стр. 324 - Through the dear might of Him that walk'd the waves ; Where, other groves and other streams along, With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, And hears the unexpressive nuptial song, In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love.
Стр. 455 - A daring pilot in extremity, Pleased with the danger, when the waves went high, He sought the storms ; but, for a calm unfit, Would steer too nigh the sands to boast his wit.
Стр. 299 - I am now indebted, as being a work not to be raised from the heat of youth, or the vapours of wine, like that which flows at waste from the pen of some vulgar amourist, or the trencher fury of a rhyming parasite ; nor to be obtained by the invocation of dame Memory and her siren daughters ; but by devout prayer to that eternal spirit, who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his seraphim with the hallowed fire of his altar to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases...
Стр. 311 - Pelops' line, Or the tale of Troy 'divine, 100 Or what (though rare) of later age Ennobled hath the buskined stage. But, O sad Virgin, that thy power Might raise Musaeus from his bower, Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing Such notes as warbled to the string Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, And made Hell grant what Love did seek.
Стр. 326 - AVENGE, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold; Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old, When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones, Forget not; in thy book record their groans Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that rolled Mother with infant down the rocks.