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" But flutter through life's little day, In Fortune's varying colours drest, Brush'd by the hand of rough mischance, Or chill'd by age, their airy dance They leave, in dust to rest. Methinks I hear in accents low The sportive, kind reply : Poor moralist... "
The Poetical Works of Johnson, Parnell, Gray, and Smollett - 163. oldal
szerző: Samuel Johnson - 1855 - 254 oldal
Teljes nézet - Információ erről a könyvről

The Lady's Magazine: Or, Entertaining Companion for the Fair Sex ...

1829 - 696 oldal
...might well moralise on his bachelorship, and call himself ' a solidary fly.' Thy loy, no glitt'ring female meets ; No hive hast thou of hoarded sweets, No painted plumage to display ! *" Collins was never a lover, and never married. His odes, with all their exquisite fancy and splendid...

Annual Register of World Events, 18. kötet

1778 - 626 oldal
...by the hand uf rough mischance. Or chill'd by age, their airy dance They leave, in dust to rest. " Methinks I hear, in accents low. The sportive kind reply : Poor moralist I and what art thou Î A solitary fly I Thy joys no glittering female meets. No hive hast thou of hoarded...

The Poetical Works of Thomas Gray LL.B., Late Professor of Modern Languages ...

Thomas Gray - 1799 - 270 oldal
...Brush'd by the hand of rough Mischance, Or chill'd by Age, their airy dance They leave, in dust to rest. Methinks I hear, in accents low, The sportive kind...! and what art thou ? A solitary fly ! Thy joys no glitt'ring female meets, No hive hast thou of hoarded sweets, No painted plumage to display : On hasty...

The Poetical Works: Of Thomas Gray, ... with Some Account of His Life and ...

Thomas Gray - 1800 - 302 oldal
...Brush'd by the hand of rough Mischance, Or chill'd by Age, their airy dance They leave, in dust to rest. Methinks I hear, in accents low, The sportive kind...Moralist! and what art thou? A solitary fly! Thy joys no glitt'ring female meets, No hive hast thou of hoarded sweets, No painted plumage to display: On hasty...

The Poetical Works of Thomas Gray

Thomas Gray - 1804 - 224 oldal
...Brush'd by the hand of rough Mischance, Or chill'd by Age, their airy dance They leave, in dust to rest. Methinks I hear, in accents low, The sportive kind...! and what art thou ? A solitary fly ! Thy joys no glitt'ring female meets, No hive hast thou of hoarded sweets, No painted plumage to display : On hasty...

Poetical Works

Oliver Goldsmith - 1806 - 248 oldal
...Brush'd by the hand of rough Mischance, Or chill'd by Age, their airy dance They leave, in dust to rest. Methinks I hear in accents low, The sportive kind...Moralist! and what art thou ? A solitary fly! Thy joys no glitt'ring female meets, No hive hast thou of hoarded sweets, • Nare per sestatem liquidam. Virg....

The Works of Thomas Gray: Containing His Poems, and Correspondence ..., 1. kötet

Thomas Gray - 1807 - 728 oldal
...Brush'd by the hand of rough Mischance, Or chill'd by Age, their airy dance. They leave, in dust to rest. Methinks I hear in accents low The sportive kind reply:...thy spring is gone — We frolic, while 'tis May. ODE II. Olt THE DEATH OF A FAVOURITE CAT, Drowned in a Tub of Gold Fishes, J- WAS on a lofty vase's...

La Belle Assemblée, 6. kötet

1809 - 402 oldal
...Brnsh'd by the hand of rough mischance, Or cbill'd by age, their airy dance They leave, in dust to rent Methinks I hear, in accents low, The sportive kind...! and what art thou ' A solitary fly ! Thy joys no gHtt'rinj femnle meets, \n hive bust I In. u of hoarded sweets, No painted plumage to display ; Ou...

Elegant Extracts, 1-2. kötet

Vicesimus Knox - 1809 - 604 oldal
...by the hand of rough mischance, Or chill'd by age, their airy dance They leaye, in dust to rest. ; the conscious groves, The scene of hia past triumphs...Sadly surveying where he- ranjj'd alone •Prince glitt'ring female meets, No hive hast thou of hoarded sheets, No painted plumage to display ; On nasty...

The Muses' Bower,: Embellished with the Beauties of English Poetry, 1. kötet

English poetry - 1809 - 302 oldal
...d by the hand of rough mischance, Or chill'd by age, their airy dance They leave, in dust to rest. Methinks I hear, in accents low, The sportive kind reply : Poor Moralist ! and what art thou ? Thy joys no glittering female meets, No hive hast thou of hoarded sweets, No painted plumage to display...




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