The Minstrel; Or, The Progress of Genius. With Some Other Poems. [With a Portrait.]J. Ballantyne for W. Creech, 1805 - 152 oldal |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 14 találatból.
3. oldal
... adorn , roat . at ; Or seek , at noon , the woodland scene remote , Where the grey linnets carol from the hill . O let them ne'er , with artificial note , To please a tyrant , strain the little bill ! But sing what heaven inspires , and ...
... adorn , roat . at ; Or seek , at noon , the woodland scene remote , Where the grey linnets carol from the hill . O let them ne'er , with artificial note , To please a tyrant , strain the little bill ! But sing what heaven inspires , and ...
5. oldal
... adorn , Yet horror screams from his discordant throat . Rise , sons of harmony , and hail the morn , While warbling larks on russet pinions float ; Or seek , at noon , the woodland scene remote , Where the grey linnets carol from the ...
... adorn , Yet horror screams from his discordant throat . Rise , sons of harmony , and hail the morn , While warbling larks on russet pinions float ; Or seek , at noon , the woodland scene remote , Where the grey linnets carol from the ...
16. oldal
... adorn the mead . XXVII . ' Shall I be left abandoned in the dust , ' When Fate , relenting , lets the flower revive ? Shall Nature's voice , to man alone unjust , ' Bid him , though doomed to perish , hope to live ? Is it for this fair ...
... adorn the mead . XXVII . ' Shall I be left abandoned in the dust , ' When Fate , relenting , lets the flower revive ? Shall Nature's voice , to man alone unjust , ' Bid him , though doomed to perish , hope to live ? Is it for this fair ...
21. oldal
... the scenes of morn , Where the fresh flowers in living lustre blow , Where thousand pearls the dewy lawns adorn , A thousand notes of joy in every breeze are borne . XXXVIII . But who the melodies of morn can tell 21.
... the scenes of morn , Where the fresh flowers in living lustre blow , Where thousand pearls the dewy lawns adorn , A thousand notes of joy in every breeze are borne . XXXVIII . But who the melodies of morn can tell 21.
45. oldal
... adorn the marble tomb With trophies , rhymes , and scutcheons of renown , ' In the deep dungeon of some Gothic dome , ' Where night and desolation ever frown . ' Mine be the breezy hill that skirts the down ; ' Where a green grassy turf ...
... adorn the marble tomb With trophies , rhymes , and scutcheons of renown , ' In the deep dungeon of some Gothic dome , ' Where night and desolation ever frown . ' Mine be the breezy hill that skirts the down ; ' Where a green grassy turf ...
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
adorn afar alarms Ambition's arms array art thou artless balmy beams bloom bosom bower breast charms cheek cliffs clouds controul cranes dark dart deep doom dread dream Edwin falchion fame Fancy Fancy's Fate fierce fled flies flowers forlorn friends frown gale gleams glittering gloom glory glow Gothic grove hail heart heaven hope Indolence JAMES BALLANTYNE light little bill lofty lone lore lyre majestic melancholy mind mingling MINSTREL mirth morn mortal mountains mourn murmur Muse Nature's ne'er nymphs o'er pangs peace pinions pomp pride pygmy rage rapture rills roam roll sapient scape scene serene shades silent sing skies smile song sooth soul sound spleen sprightly storm strain stream stupified sublime sweet tale tears tempest thee thine thou thundering toil truth Twas vale virtue voice wander warbling wave wild wind wings yonder youth
Népszerű szakaszok
125. oldal - Thy creature, who fain would not wander from thee ; Lo, humbled in dust, I relinquish my pride : From doubt and from darkness thou only canst free I — * And darkness and doubt are now flying away, No- longer I roam in conjecture forlorn.
123. oldal - AT the close of the day, when the hamlet is still, And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove, When nought but the torrent is heard on the hill, And nought but the nightingale's song in the grove : 'Twas thus, by the cave of the mountain afar, While his harp rung symphonious, a hermit began ; No more with himself or with nature at war, He thought as a sage, though he felt as a man.
12. oldal - In truth he was a strange and wayward wight, Fond of each gentle and each dreadful scene : In darkness, and in storm, he found delight ; Nor less than when on...
20. oldal - But who the melodies of morn can tell ? The wild brook babbling down the mountain side ; The lowing herd ; the sheepfold's simple bell ; The pipe of early shepherd, dim descried In the lone valley...
40. oldal - Hail, awful scenes, that calm the troubled breast, ' And woo the weary to profound repose ; * Can passion's wildest uproar lay to rest, ' And whisper comfort to the man of woes ! ' Here Innocence may wander, safe from foes, ' And Contemplation soar on seraph wings.
17. oldal - Or, when the setting Moon, in crimson dyed, Hung o'er the dark and melancholy deep, To haunted stream, remote from man, he hied, Where fays of yore their revels wont to keep ; And there let Fancy rove at large, till sleep A vision brought to his entranced sight.
10. oldal - And sees, on high, amidst the encircling groves, From cliff to cliff the foaming torrents shine ; While waters, woods, and winds, in concert join, And echo swells the chorus to the skies. Would Edwin this majestic scene resign For aught the huntsman's puny craft supplies ? Ah ! no : he better knows great Nature's charms to prize.
58. oldal - And Reason now through number, time, and space, Darts the keen lustre of her serious eye, And learns, from facts compared, the laws to trace, Whose long progression leads to Deity.
5. oldal - O, how canst thou renounce the boundless store Of charms which Nature to her votary yields ! The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields ; All that the genial ray of morning gilds, And all that echoes to the song of even, All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, And all the dread magnificence of heaven, O how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven ! X.
53. oldal - Sweet were your shades, O ye primeval groves ! Whose boughs to man his food and shelter lent, Pure in his pleasures, happy in his loves, His eye still smiling, and his heart content. Then, hand in hand, health, sport, and labour went. Nature supplied the wish she taught to crave.