English OdesAppleton, 1890 - 259 oldal |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 29 találatból.
vi. oldal
... Leaving Holland . Akenside . 132 XXIV . The First of April Warton • 137 Cowper 142 XXV . Boadicea XXVI . In Imitation of Alcæus XXVII . Intimations of Immortality . Sir William Jones 145 Wordsworth 147 XXVIII . To Duty . Wordsworth 156 ...
... Leaving Holland . Akenside . 132 XXIV . The First of April Warton • 137 Cowper 142 XXV . Boadicea XXVI . In Imitation of Alcæus XXVII . Intimations of Immortality . Sir William Jones 145 Wordsworth 147 XXVIII . To Duty . Wordsworth 156 ...
4. oldal
... leaves among ? For they of joy and pleasance to you sing , That all the woods them answer , and their echo ring . My love is now awake out of her dream , And her fair eyes , like stars that dimmed were With darksome cloud , now shew ...
... leaves among ? For they of joy and pleasance to you sing , That all the woods them answer , and their echo ring . My love is now awake out of her dream , And her fair eyes , like stars that dimmed were With darksome cloud , now shew ...
11. oldal
... leave your wonted labours for this day : This day is holy ; do ye write it down , That ye for ever it remember may . This day the sun is in his chiefest height , With Barnaby the bright , From whence declining daily by degrees , He ...
... leave your wonted labours for this day : This day is holy ; do ye write it down , That ye for ever it remember may . This day the sun is in his chiefest height , With Barnaby the bright , From whence declining daily by degrees , He ...
12. oldal
... leave to come unto my love ? How slowly do the hours their numbers spend ; How slowly does sad Time his feathers move ! Haste thee , O fairest Planet ! to thy home Within the western foam : Thy tired steeds long since have need of rest ...
... leave to come unto my love ? How slowly do the hours their numbers spend ; How slowly does sad Time his feathers move ! Haste thee , O fairest Planet ! to thy home Within the western foam : Thy tired steeds long since have need of rest ...
13. oldal
... leave my love alone ; And leave likewise your former lay to sing : The woods no more shail answer , nor your echo ring . Now welcome , night ! thou night so long expected , That long day's labour dost at last defray , And all my cares ...
... leave my love alone ; And leave likewise your former lay to sing : The woods no more shail answer , nor your echo ring . Now welcome , night ! thou night so long expected , That long day's labour dost at last defray , And all my cares ...
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Alcman Anarchs ANNE KILLIGREW antistrophe arms Bacchus Ben Jonson beneath bliss blood Boileau bower breath bright clouds crown dark death deep delight didst divine dost doth dreams e'er ears earth echo ring epode eternal euphuists eyes fair fame fate fear fire flame flowers foes France Gilbert West glory green hail hand happy harmony hast hath hear heard heart heaven holy honour hope Hyades Hymen kings land leave light loud Lycoris lyre maid melody mighty mortal mourn murmur Muse Naiads Namur ne'er night numbers nymph o'er Pindar pleasure poem poet praise round sacred Sambre shine sighed sing skies slaves sleep smile soft solemn song soul sound spirit spring star strain stream strophe sublime sweet tears thee thine things thou thought throne thunder Timotheus unto verse voice waves wild winds wings woods
Népszerű szakaszok
24. 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; For so the holy sages once did sing That he our deadly forfeit should release, And with his Father work us a perpetual peace.
116. oldal - And though sometimes, each dreary pause between, Dejected Pity at his side Her soul-subduing voice applied, Yet still he kept his wild unaltered mien, While each strained ball of sight seemed bursting from his head.
28. oldal - That the mighty Pan Was kindly come to live with them below ; Perhaps their loves, or else their sheep, Was all that did their silly thoughts so busy keep...
191. 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.
156. oldal - Stern Lawgiver! yet thou dost wear The Godhead's most benignant grace; Nor know we anything so fair As is the smile upon thy face: Flowers laugh before thee on their beds And fragrance in thy footing treads; Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong; And the most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong.
218. oldal - Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve; She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair! Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu; And, happy melodist, unwearied, For ever piping songs for ever new; More happy love!
186. oldal - Oh lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud! I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed! A heavy weight of hours has chained and bowed One too like thee: tameless, and swift, and proud.
150. oldal - Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie Thy Soul's immensity ; Thou best Philosopher, who yet dost keep Thy heritage, thou Eye among the blind, That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep, Haunted for ever by the eternal mind, — Mighty Prophet ! Seer blest ! On whom those truths do rest, Which we are toiling all our lives to find...
149. oldal - The homely nurse doth all she can To make her foster-child, her inmate Man, Forget the glories he hath known, And that imperial palace whence he came. Behold the Child among his new-born blisses, A six years' darling of a pigmy size ! See, where 'mid work of his own hand he lies.
213. 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.