Foliorum silvula, selections for translation into Latin and Greek verse, by H.A. Holden, Том 1 |
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Резултати 1 - 5 от 22.
Страница 2
Rose leaves , when the rose is dead , are heap ' d for the beloved ' s bed ; and so
thy thoughts , when thou art gone , love itself shall slumber on . P . B . SHELLEY
EVENING HYMN COD that madest earth and heaven , U darkness and light ...
Rose leaves , when the rose is dead , are heap ' d for the beloved ' s bed ; and so
thy thoughts , when thou art gone , love itself shall slumber on . P . B . SHELLEY
EVENING HYMN COD that madest earth and heaven , U darkness and light ...
Страница 11
... or a coral lip admires , or from star - like eyes doth seek fuel to maintain his
fires ; as old Time makes these decay , so his flames must waste away . But a
smooth and steadfast mind , gentle thoughts , and calm desires , hearts with
equal love ...
... or a coral lip admires , or from star - like eyes doth seek fuel to maintain his
fires ; as old Time makes these decay , so his flames must waste away . But a
smooth and steadfast mind , gentle thoughts , and calm desires , hearts with
equal love ...
Страница 12
I clip high climbing thoughts , the wings of swelling pride ; their fall is worst , that
from the height of greatest honours slide . Sith sails of largest size the storm doth
soonest tear ; I bear so low and small a sail as freeth me from fear . I envy not ...
I clip high climbing thoughts , the wings of swelling pride ; their fall is worst , that
from the height of greatest honours slide . Sith sails of largest size the storm doth
soonest tear ; I bear so low and small a sail as freeth me from fear . I envy not ...
Страница 45
... the very sweetest fancy culls or frames , when thankfulness of heart is strong
and deep ! dear Bosom - child we call thee , that dost steep in rich reward all
suffering ; Balm that tames all anguish ; Saint , that evil thoughts and aims takest
away ...
... the very sweetest fancy culls or frames , when thankfulness of heart is strong
and deep ! dear Bosom - child we call thee , that dost steep in rich reward all
suffering ; Balm that tames all anguish ; Saint , that evil thoughts and aims takest
away ...
Страница 49
Away with thoughts like these ! — To some lone cave where howls the shrill blast
and where sweeps the wave , direct my steps ; there , in the lonely drear , . I ' ll sit
remote from worldly noise and muse , till through my soul shall Peace her balm ...
Away with thoughts like these ! — To some lone cave where howls the shrill blast
and where sweeps the wave , direct my steps ; there , in the lonely drear , . I ' ll sit
remote from worldly noise and muse , till through my soul shall Peace her balm ...
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Често срещани думи и фрази
beauty beneath birds bound breast breath bright bring calm clouds crown dark dead death deep delight dost doth dream earth Edition eyes fair fall fate fear fields fire flow flowers give glory golden grave green hand happy hast hath head hear heart heaven honour hope hour keep land leaves light live look Lord mind morn mountains Nature never night o'er once pass past peace pleasures rest rich rise rock roses round SCENE shade shore skies sleep smile soft song soon sorrow soul sound spirit spring stars storm stream sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thoughts turn virtue voice waters waves weep wild winds wings winter young youth δε και τε
Популярни откъси
Страница 174 - The oracles are dumb; No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving: Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving: No nightly trance or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
Страница 249 - Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is : What if my leaves are falling like its own ! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, spirit fierce, My spirit ! Be thou me, impetuous one ! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth...
Страница 249 - WILD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou, Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill (Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air) With...
Страница 218 - Now strike the golden lyre again : A louder yet, and yet a louder strain ! Break his bands of sleep asunder And rouse him like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark, hark ! the horrid sound Has raised up his head : As awaked from the dead And amazed he stares around. Revenge, revenge...
Страница 11 - It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make Man better be ; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere : A lily of a day Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night — It was the plant and flower of Light. In small proportions we just beauties see ; And in short measures life may perfect be.
Страница 173 - No war, or battle's sound, Was heard the world around : The idle spear and shield were high up hung ; The hooked chariot stood Unstained with hostile blood ; The trumpet spake not to the armed throng ; And kings sat still with awful eye, As if they surely knew their sovereign Lord was by.
Страница 267 - He who hath bent him o'er the dead Ere the first day of death is fled, The first dark day of nothingness, The last of danger and distress...
Страница 147 - I'll never love thee more. As Alexander I will reign, And I will reign alone ; My thoughts did evermore disdain A rival on my throne. He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who dares not put it to the touch To gain or lose it all.
Страница 48 - Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men. Oh! raise us up, return to us again; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Библиография
| Заглавие | Foliorum silvula, selections for translation into Latin and Greek verse, by H.A. Holden, Том 1 Foliorum silvula, selections for translation into Latin and Greek verse, by H.A. Holden, Hubert Ashton Holden |
| Редактор | Hubert Ashton Holden |
| Издание | 3 |
| Публикувана | 1864 |
| Оригиналът е от | Оксфордският университет |
| Цифровизирана на | 27 юли 2006 |
| Експортиране на описанието | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |