The works of the English poets. With prefaces, biographical and critical, by S. Johnson, Том 581790 |
Между кориците на книгата
Резултати 1 - 5 от 24.
Страница 4
... first her care Each fofter virtue that adorns the fair ; Each tender paffion man delights to find , The lov'd perfections of a female mind ! Bleft were the days , when wisdom held her reign , And shepherds fought her on the filent plain ...
... first her care Each fofter virtue that adorns the fair ; Each tender paffion man delights to find , The lov'd perfections of a female mind ! Bleft were the days , when wisdom held her reign , And shepherds fought her on the filent plain ...
Страница 6
... first from Schiraz ' walls I bent my way ! " Ah ! little thought I of the blasting wind , The thirst , or pinching hunger , that I find ! Bethink thee , Haffan , where fhall Thirst affuage , When fails this cruife , his unrelenting rage ...
... first from Schiraz ' walls I bent my way ! " Ah ! little thought I of the blasting wind , The thirst , or pinching hunger , that I find ! Bethink thee , Haffan , where fhall Thirst affuage , When fails this cruife , his unrelenting rage ...
Страница 7
... first from Schiraz ' walls I bent my way ! " Curft be the gold and filver which perfuade Weak men to follow far fatiguing trade ! The lily peace outshines the filver store , And life is dearer than the golden ore : Yet money tempts us o ...
... first from Schiraz ' walls I bent my way ! " Curft be the gold and filver which perfuade Weak men to follow far fatiguing trade ! The lily peace outshines the filver store , And life is dearer than the golden ore : Yet money tempts us o ...
Страница 8
... first from Schiraz ' walls I bent my way ! " At that dead hour the filent asp shall creep , If aught of reft I find , upon my fleep : Or fome swoln ferpent twist his scales around , And wake to anguish with a burning wound . Thrice ...
... first from Schiraz ' walls I bent my way ! " At that dead hour the filent asp shall creep , If aught of reft I find , upon my fleep : Or fome swoln ferpent twist his scales around , And wake to anguish with a burning wound . Thrice ...
Страница 11
... first his heart was fir'd : A ruffet mantle , like a fwain , he wore , And thought of crowns and busy courts no more . " Be every youth like royal Abbas mov'd , " And every Georgian maid like Abra lov'd ! ” Bleft was the life , that ...
... first his heart was fir'd : A ruffet mantle , like a fwain , he wore , And thought of crowns and busy courts no more . " Be every youth like royal Abbas mov'd , " And every Georgian maid like Abra lov'd ! ” Bleft was the life , that ...
Често срещани думи и фрази
AARON HILL Ægyptus æther ancient ariſe beauteous behold beneath bleft boaſt breathe charm chearful clime coaft courſe CYMBELINE deep delight deſcription diftant dreft duft eaſe eclogue erft ev'n facred fair Falernum fame fcene feek fhade fhall fhepherds fhore fide filent firſt fleece flocks flowers foft folemn fome fong fons ftill ftores ftrain fubject fuch fwains fweet fwell Gaul green GRONGAR HILL groves hand heart hills ifle induſtry iſle lofty loom lov'd maid meaſure moſt mountains Mufe mufic Muſe numbers nymphs o'er paffions paftures plains pleaſure poet proud raiſe realms rife riſe rocks ruins ſcene ſeems ſhade ſhall ſhe ſheep ſhore ſkill ſky ſpeed ſpread ſtate ſtep ſtill ſtream ſtreets ſtrong ſwain ſweet thee thefe Theocritus theſe thofe thoſe thou thouſand toil trade uſe vale vallies verſe virtue wave wealth whofe whoſe wild wind wiſhes woods wool youth
Популярни откъси
Страница 24 - 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 98 - 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 35 - midst its dreary dells, Whose walls more awful nod By thy religious gleams. Or if chill blustering winds, or driving rain, Prevent my willing feet, be mine the hut, That from the mountain's side, Views wilds, and swelling floods, And hamlets brown, and dim-discover'd spires, And hears their simple bell, and marks o'er all Thy dewy fingers draw The gradual dusky veil.
Страница 41 - 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 87 - O thou, whose spirit most possest The sacred seat of Shakspeare's breast! By all that from thy prophet broke. In thy divine emotions spoke ; Hither again thy fury deal, Teach me but once like him to feel : His cypress wreath my meed decree, And I, O Fear, will dwell with thee ! ODE TO SIMPLICITY.
Страница 76 - 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 114 - I lie ; While the wanton Zephyr sings. And in the vale perfumes his wings ; While the waters murmur deep ; While the shepherd charms his sheep; While the birds unbounded fly, And with music fill the sky, Now, ev'n now. my joys run high.
Страница 112 - And see the rivers how they run, Through woods and meads, in shade and sun Sometimes swift, sometimes slow, Wave succeeding wave, they go A various journey to the deep, Like human life, to endless sleep...
Страница 111 - Below me trees unnumber'd rise, Beautiful in various dyes : The gloomy pine, the poplar blue, The yellow beech, the sable yew, The slender fir, that taper grows, ' The sturdy oak with broad-spread boughs. And beyond the purple grove, Haunt of Phyllis, queen of love...
Страница 56 - Fresh to that soil thou turn'st, whose ev'ry vale Shall prompt the poet, and his song demand: To thee thy copious subjects ne'er shall fail; Thou need'st but take the pencil to thy hand, And paint what all believe who own thy genial land.