Bell's Edition, 37-38. kötetJ. Bell, 1777 |
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1 - 5 találat összesen 58 találatból.
lxiii. oldal
... thine amazing infancy , We envy Nature's prodigality Bloffoms and fruit at once on one immortal tree . • To thee , and only thee , In whom ( as in old Eden ) still were seen 40 All things florid , fresh , and green , Herculean vigour ...
... thine amazing infancy , We envy Nature's prodigality Bloffoms and fruit at once on one immortal tree . • To thee , and only thee , In whom ( as in old Eden ) still were seen 40 All things florid , fresh , and green , Herculean vigour ...
lxviii. oldal
... thine , Thy thoughts as regular and fine , Thy foul the fame , Like his , to honour and to love inclin'd , As foft thy foul , as great thy mind . V. Whatever Cowley writes must please ; Sure like the gods he speaks all languages , 70 ...
... thine , Thy thoughts as regular and fine , Thy foul the fame , Like his , to honour and to love inclin'd , As foft thy foul , as great thy mind . V. Whatever Cowley writes must please ; Sure like the gods he speaks all languages , 70 ...
lxxvi. oldal
... thine , Thy thoughts as regular and fine , Thy foul the fame , Like his , to honour and to love inclin'd , As foft thy foul , as great thy mind . V. Whatever Cowley writes must please ; Sure like the gods he speaks all languages , 70 ...
... thine , Thy thoughts as regular and fine , Thy foul the fame , Like his , to honour and to love inclin'd , As foft thy foul , as great thy mind . V. Whatever Cowley writes must please ; Sure like the gods he speaks all languages , 70 ...
89. oldal
... thine anger know ; " I faultlefs am ; what honour can it be " Only to wound your slave , and fpare your foe ? " ICO Here tears and fighs speak his imperfect moan , In language far more moving than his own . XVIII . Home he retir'd ; his ...
... thine anger know ; " I faultlefs am ; what honour can it be " Only to wound your slave , and fpare your foe ? " ICO Here tears and fighs speak his imperfect moan , In language far more moving than his own . XVIII . Home he retir'd ; his ...
89. oldal
... thine anger know ; " I faultlefs am ; what honour can it be " Only to wound your flave , and fpare your foe ? " Ico Here tears and fighs fpeak his imperfect moan , In language far more moving than his own . XVIIL Home he retir'd ; his ...
... thine anger know ; " I faultlefs am ; what honour can it be " Only to wound your flave , and fpare your foe ? " Ico Here tears and fighs fpeak his imperfect moan , In language far more moving than his own . XVIIL Home he retir'd ; his ...
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Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
ABRAHAM COWLEY againſt anſwers beauty becauſe beſt beſtow blefs'd breaſt cauſe Conftantia COWLEY darkneſs death defire doft doth eſtate ev'n ev'ry Exeter Exchange eyes facred faid fair fame Fate fear feem fhall fhew fighs fince fing fire firſt flain flame fome fong foon forrows foul ftill fuch fure greateſt grief hath heart heav'n himſelf honour houſe itſelf juſt laft laſt leaſt lefs leſs light lov'd Love's mighty mind Miſtreſs moſt Mufe Muſe muſt myſelf ne'er northern expedition numbers paffions paſt Philetus Philocrates Pindar pleaſant pleaſe pleaſure poets pofies pow'r praiſe raiſe reaſon ſaid ſay ſee ſeen ſhall ſhe ſhine ſhould ſhow ſome ſpeak ſtand ſtate ſtay ſtill ſtraight ſtrong tears thee themſelves theſe thine things thofe thoſe thou thouſand thro twas Unleſs uſe verfe verſe Whilft whofe whoſe ΙΟ
Népszerű szakaszok
123. oldal - s drunken, fiery face no less) Drinks up the sea, and when he's done, The moon and stars drink up the sun. They drink and dance by their own light, They drink and revel all the night. Nothing in Nature's sober found, But an eternal health goes round.
lxv. oldal - Latin vein, so clear, Strong, full, and high, it doth appear ', That were immortal Virgil here, Him for his judge he would not fear. Of that great portraiture so true A copy, pencil never drew. My Muse her song had ended here, But both their genii straight appear : Joy and amazement her did strike ; Two twins she never saw so like.
xlvi. oldal - There was no other religion ; and therefore that was better than none at all : but to us, who have no need of them ; to us, who deride their folly, and are wearied with their impertinencies ; they ought to appear no better arguments for verse, than those of their worthy successors, the knights errant.
194. oldal - On a sigh of pity I a year can live ; One tear will keep me twenty, at least ; Fifty, a gentle look will give ; An hundred years on one kind word I'll feast : A thousand more will added be, If you an inclination have for me ; And all beyond is vast eternity ! THE THIEF.
105. oldal - To a lord's house, as lordly as can be, Made for the use of pride and luxury, They come ; the gentle courtier at the door Stops, and will hardly enter in before. But 'tis, sir, your command, and being so, I'm sworn t' obedience ; and so in they go.
105. oldal - Darkness' curtains he retires ; In sympathizing night he rolls his smoky fires. .When, Goddess! thou lift'st up thy waken'd head, Out of the morning's purple bed, Thy quire of birds about thee play, And all the joyful world salutes the rising day.
95. oldal - Who does in me dwell. Before my Gate a Street's broad Channel goes, Which still with Waves of crowding people flows, And every day there passes by my side, Up to its Western Reach, the London Tide, The Spring-Tides of the Term ; my Front looks down On all the Pride, and Business of the Town.
137. oldal - So strong a wit did nature to him frame As all things but his judgment overcame; His judgment like the heavenly moon did show, Tempering that mighty sea below. Oh had he lived in learning's world, what bound Would have been able to control His over-powering soul? We have lost in him arts that not yet are found.
89. oldal - This only grant me, that my means may lie Too low for envy, for contempt too high. Some honour I would have, Not from great deeds, but good alone; The' unknown are better than ill known : Rumour can ope the grave.
137. oldal - He lov'd my worthless rhymes, and, like a friend, Would find out something to commend. Hence now, my Muse ! thou canst not me delight : Be this my latest verse, With which I now adorn his hearse ; And this my grief, without thy help, shall write.