The Minstrel; Or, The Progress of Genius: With Some Other PoemsJ.Mawman, ... 1805. By T.Gillet, 1805 - 120 oldal |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 31 találatból.
v. oldal
... never wrote , and some of my own in- accurately copied , I thought it would not be improper to publish , in this little volume , all the verses of which I am willing to be considered as the author . Many others I did indeed write in the ...
... never wrote , and some of my own in- accurately copied , I thought it would not be improper to publish , in this little volume , all the verses of which I am willing to be considered as the author . Many others I did indeed write in the ...
ix. oldal
... never was satisfied with what he learned within the walls of the college . His private reading was extensive and various , and it was with him , as it appears to have been with almost every man of learning , of whom we have had a minute ...
... never was satisfied with what he learned within the walls of the college . His private reading was extensive and various , and it was with him , as it appears to have been with almost every man of learning , of whom we have had a minute ...
x. oldal
... never heard of . The church of Scotland was at this time the usual resource of well educated young men , and with their academical stores in full memory , there were few difficulties to be surmounted before their entrance on the sacred ...
... never heard of . The church of Scotland was at this time the usual resource of well educated young men , and with their academical stores in full memory , there were few difficulties to be surmounted before their entrance on the sacred ...
xi. oldal
... never contemplated with satisfaction , al- though few young men lived a more pious and regular life , there occurred a vacancy for one of the masters of the grammar school of Aberdeen , a situation of considerable importance in all ...
... never contemplated with satisfaction , al- though few young men lived a more pious and regular life , there occurred a vacancy for one of the masters of the grammar school of Aberdeen , a situation of considerable importance in all ...
xiii. oldal
... never spoke of it to his son , and seems to think he had never seen it . is only silent on his juvenile productions , they may DR . JAMES BEATTIE . X11.
... never spoke of it to his son , and seems to think he had never seen it . is only silent on his juvenile productions , they may DR . JAMES BEATTIE . X11.
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
MINSTREL OR THE PROGRESS OF GE James 1735-1803 Beattie,Richard 1765-1836 Westall,Charles 1785-1848 Heath Nincs elérhető előnézet - 2016 |
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Aberdeen afar alarm Ambition's appeared balmy Beattie Beattie's Bishop of London bosom bower charms cliffs clouds cranes dark dart deep Doctor of Laws dread dream edition Edwin English poetry Essay on Truth falchion fame Fancy Fancy's Fate flowers foes forlorn friends gale gentle glittering glow grace groves hail heart heaven honour hope Hume JAMES BEATTIE Laurencekirk London lone lyre Marischal College Mawman mind Minstrel moral mountains mourn Muse Nature's ne'er never o'er opinion peace philosophical pleasure poems poetry pomp praise pride PROGRESS OF GENIUS published pygmy racter rage republic of letters roam scene Scotland Scots Magazine seem'd serene shade Sir Joshua Reynolds smile song sooth soul spleen sprightly storm strain sublime sweet taste tears thee thine thou thought thro vale verse virtue voice wander warbling wild wind wings writings youth
Népszerű szakaszok
3. oldal - AH ! who can tell how hard it is to climb The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar; Ah! who can tell how many a soul sublime Has felt the influence of malignant star, And waged with Fortune an eternal war; Check'd by the scoff of Pride, by Envy's frown, And Poverty's unconquerable bar, In life's low vale remote has pined alone, Then dropt into the grave, unpitied and unknown...
7. oldal - Oh, 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...
118. oldal - 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.
22. 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 ; echoing far and wide The clamorous horn along the cliffs above ; The hollow murmur of the ocean tide ; The hum of bees, the linnet's lay of love, And the full choir that wakes the universal grove.
13. oldal - And oft the craggy cliff he loved to climb, When all in mist the world below was lost. What dreadful pleasure ! there to stand sublime, Like shipwreck'd mariner on desert coast, And view th...
16. oldal - And be it so. Let those deplore their doom, Whose hope still grovels in this dark sojourn : But lofty souls, who look beyond the tomb, Can smile at Fate, and wonder how they mourn. Shall Spring to these sad scenes no more return ? Is yonder wave the sun's eternal bed ? Soon shall the orient with new lustre burn, And Spring shall soon her vital influence shed, Again attune the grove, again adorn the mead.
42. 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.
11. oldal - Silent when glad ; affectionate, though shy ; And now his look was most demurely sad ; And now he laugh'd aloud, yet none knew why. The neighbours star'd and sigh'd, yet bless'd the lad : Some deem'd him wondrous wise, and some believed him mad.
45. oldal - Let Vanity 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 is all I crave, With here and there a violet bestrown, Fast by a brook, or fountain's murmuring wave; And many an evening sun shine sweetly on my grave.
xxxiv. oldal - Whoever wishes to attain an English style, familiar but not coarse, and elegant but not ostentatious, must give his days and nights to the volumes of Addison...