English odes, selected by E.W. Gosse |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 19 találatból.
33. oldal
... divine , With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving . No nightly trance , or breathed spell , Inspires the pale - eyed priest from the prophetic cell . The lonely mountains o'er , And the resounding shore , A voice of weeping heard ...
... divine , With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving . No nightly trance , or breathed spell , Inspires the pale - eyed priest from the prophetic cell . The lonely mountains o'er , And the resounding shore , A voice of weeping heard ...
37. oldal
... is sincerely good And perfectly divine , With truth , and peace , and love , shall ever shine About the supreme throne Of Him , to whose happy - making sight alone When once our heavenly - guided soul shall climb , MILTON , 37.
... is sincerely good And perfectly divine , With truth , and peace , and love , shall ever shine About the supreme throne Of Him , to whose happy - making sight alone When once our heavenly - guided soul shall climb , MILTON , 37.
39. oldal
... divine sounds , and mix'd power employ , Dead things with inbreathed sense able to pierce ; And to our high - raised phantasy present That undisturbed song of pure content , Aye sung before the sapphire - colour'd throne To Him that ...
... divine sounds , and mix'd power employ , Dead things with inbreathed sense able to pierce ; And to our high - raised phantasy present That undisturbed song of pure content , Aye sung before the sapphire - colour'd throne To Him that ...
45. oldal
... divine , The depths unfathomed yet By reason's plummet and the line of wit , — Too light the plummet and too short the line ; How the Eternal Father did bestow His own Eternal Son as ransom for his foe ; I'll sing aloud that all the ...
... divine , The depths unfathomed yet By reason's plummet and the line of wit , — Too light the plummet and too short the line ; How the Eternal Father did bestow His own Eternal Son as ransom for his foe ; I'll sing aloud that all the ...
53. oldal
... song a little space ; Thou wilt have time enough for hymns divine , Since Heaven's eternal year is thine . Hear then a mortal Muse thy praise rehearse In no ignoble verse , But such as thy own DRYDEN . 53 53 Dryden Dryden.
... song a little space ; Thou wilt have time enough for hymns divine , Since Heaven's eternal year is thine . Hear then a mortal Muse thy praise rehearse In no ignoble verse , But such as thy own DRYDEN . 53 53 Dryden Dryden.
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
angel ANNE KILLIGREW antistrophe Bacchus beneath blessed bliss Boileau bower breath bright CHORUS clouds crown curious fools dark death deep delight divine dost doth dreadful dreams e'er ears earth echo ring epode eternal eyes fair fair music fame fate fear fire flowers foes France glory golden goodly grace hand happy harmony hast hath hear heard heart heaven heavenly holy honour Hyades Hymen kings leave les leopards les monceaux light loud lovely band lyre maid melodious mighty mortal mourn Muse Namur ne'er night numbers nymphs o'er pain Pindar pleasure poem poet praise quire round sacred Sambre sighed and looked sing skies sleep soft solemn song soul sound spirit star sung sweet tears thee thine things thou thought throne Timotheus unto vermil verse voice waves winds wings woods may answer woods them answer
Népszerű szakaszok
218. oldal - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too...
183. oldal - Soothing her love-laden Soul in secret hour With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower: Like a glow-worm golden In a dell of dew, Scattering unbeholden Its aerial hue Among the flowers and grass which screen it from the view...
65. oldal - Now strike the golden lyre again ; A louder yet, and yet a louder strain. Break his bands of sleep asunder, And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark, hark, the horrid sound Has raised up his head ; As awaked from the dead, And amazed, he stares around. Revenge, revenge...
185. oldal - We look before and after, And pine for what is not: Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
219. oldal - But when the melancholy fit shall fall Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud, That fosters the droop-headed flowers all, And hides the green hill in an April shroud; Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose, Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave, Or on the wealth of globed peonies ; Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows, Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave, And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.
101. oldal - On a rock, whose haughty brow Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood. Robed in the sable garb of woe. With haggard eyes the poet stood; (Loose his beard, and hoary hair Streamed, like a meteor, to the troubled air), And with a master's hand, and prophet's fire, Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre.
207. oldal - My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: "Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
22. oldal - This is the month, and this the happy morn Wherein the Son of Heaven's Eternal King Of wedded maid and virgin mother born, Our great redemption from above did bring...
208. oldal - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan...
67. oldal - At last divine Cecilia came, Inventress of the vocal frame ; The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, Enlarg'd the former narrow bounds, And added length to solemn sounds, With nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before. Let old Timotheus yield the prize, Or both divide the crown ; He raised a mortal to the skies, She drew an angel down.