The Poetical Works of Mr. William Collins: With Memoirs of the Author; and Observations on His Genius and Writings |
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Страница 29
... of odorous flowers she made : Gay - motley'd pinks and sweet jonquils she chose , The violet blue that on the moss - bank grows ; All - sweet to sense , the flaunting rose was there : The finish'd chaplet well - adorn'd her hair .
... of odorous flowers she made : Gay - motley'd pinks and sweet jonquils she chose , The violet blue that on the moss - bank grows ; All - sweet to sense , the flaunting rose was there : The finish'd chaplet well - adorn'd her hair .
Страница 36
In vain Circallia boasts her spicy groves , For ever fam'd for pure and happy loves : In vain the boafts her faireft of the fair , Their eye's blue languish , and their golden hair ! Those eyes in tears their fruitless grief must send ...
In vain Circallia boasts her spicy groves , For ever fam'd for pure and happy loves : In vain the boafts her faireft of the fair , Their eye's blue languish , and their golden hair ! Those eyes in tears their fruitless grief must send ...
Страница 53
And she , from out the veiling cloud , Breath'd her magic notes aloud : And thou , thou rich - hair'd youth of morn , And all thy subject life was born ! The dangerous passions kept aloof , Far from the fainted growing woof : But near ...
And she , from out the veiling cloud , Breath'd her magic notes aloud : And thou , thou rich - hair'd youth of morn , And all thy subject life was born ! The dangerous passions kept aloof , Far from the fainted growing woof : But near ...
Страница 60
... who , deck'd with pearly pride , In Adria weds his green - hair'd bride : port of glory , wealth , and pleasure , Ne'er let me change this Lydian measure : Nor e'er her former pride relate , Hail To fad Liguria's bleeding state .
... who , deck'd with pearly pride , In Adria weds his green - hair'd bride : port of glory , wealth , and pleasure , Ne'er let me change this Lydian measure : Nor e'er her former pride relate , Hail To fad Liguria's bleeding state .
Страница 66
... Play with the tangles of her hairs . Till , in one loud applauding found , The nations thout to her around , O how supremely art thou bleft , Thou , Lady , thou fhalt role the wefel : ODER 0 D E , то А LADY , ON THE [ 66 I.
... Play with the tangles of her hairs . Till , in one loud applauding found , The nations thout to her around , O how supremely art thou bleft , Thou , Lady , thou fhalt role the wefel : ODER 0 D E , то А LADY , ON THE [ 66 I.
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allegorical amidſt appear bear beautiful bleft breathe callid character charm Collins death deep delight deſcription ECLOGUE equal eyes fair Fancy Fear feel feet fide firſt flowers former genius golden green grief grove hair hand happy hear heard heart heaven himſelf hope hour imagery imagination imitation influence kind laſt lead letters light lines lov'd maid meaſure mind moral moſt mountain Muſe native nature numbers nymph o'er Obſervations once Oriental painting paſſions paſtoral Peace perfect Pity plain pleaſure poems poet poet's poetical poetry pride rage reaſon riſe round ſame ſcene ſee ſeems ſentiment ſhade ſhall ſhe ſhepherds ſome ſong ſounds ſpecies ſtill ſtrain ſubject ſuch ſweet tears tender thee theſe thoſe thou thought thro truth turns vale verſe virtue whole whoſe wild winds written youth
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Страница 55 - How sleep the brave, who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung ; By forms unseen their dirge is sung : There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there ! TO MERCY.
Страница 151 - Vengeance, in the lurid air, Lifts her red arm, expos'd and bare : On whom that ravening brood of Fate, Who lap the blood of Sorrow, wait : Who, Fear, this ghastly train can see, And look not madly wild, like thee ? EPODE.
Страница 170 - Whose numbers, stealing through thy darkening vale, May not unseemly with its stillness suit ; As musing slow I hail Thy genial loved return. For when thy folding-star * arising shows His paly circlet, at his warning lamp The fragrant Hours, and Elves Who slept in buds the day, And many a Nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge And sheds the freshening dew, and lovelier still The pensive Pleasures sweet Prepare thy shadowy car.
Страница 84 - O nymph endear'd ! Can well recall what then it heard. Where is thy native simple heart Devote to Virtue, Fancy, Art? Arise, as in that elder time, Warm, energic, chaste, sublime!
Страница 96 - No wither'd witch shall here be seen, No goblins lead their nightly crew; The female fays shall haunt the green, And dress thy grave with pearly dew ! The red-breast oft at evening hours Shall kindly lend his little aid, With hoary moss, and gather'd flowers, To deck the ground where thou art laid.
Страница 121 - What if the lion in his rage I meet ! Oft in the dust I view his printed feet : And fearful ! oft, when day's declining light Yields her pale empire to the mourner night, By hunger...
Страница 46 - Though gentle Pity claim her mingled part, Yet all the thunders of the scene are thine.
Страница 178 - And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail. Still would her touch the strain prolong ; And from the rocks, the woods, the vale, She call'd on Echo still through all the song ; And where her sweetest theme she chose, A soft responsive voice was heard at every close ; And Hope enchanted smil'd, and wav'd her golden hair...
Страница 73 - ... The gradual dusky veil, While Spring shall pour his showers, as oft he wont> And bathe thy breathing tresses, meekest Eve ! While Summer loves to sport Beneath thy lingering light : While sallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves, Or Winter yelling through the troublous air, Affrights thy shrinking train, And rudely rends thy robes : So long, regardful of thy quiet rule, Shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, smiling Peace, Thy gentlest influence own, And love thy favourite name ! ODE TO PEACE.
Страница 81 - He threw his blood-stained sword, in thunder, down ; And with a withering look, The war-denouncing trumpet took, And blew a blast so loud and dread, Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe! And, ever and anon, he beat The doubling drum, with furious heat...