Parodies of the Works of English & American Authors, Tom 5Johnson Reprint Corporation, 1888 |
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Strona 1
... seen long before , had at last got an end to it , " a merit , " he added , " that most of my writings have wanted and are like to want . " This " thing was the " Elegy . " Walpole showed it about , copies were taken , and early in 1751 ...
... seen long before , had at last got an end to it , " a merit , " he added , " that most of my writings have wanted and are like to want . " This " thing was the " Elegy . " Walpole showed it about , copies were taken , and early in 1751 ...
Strona 3
... seen him at the Peep of Dawn " Brushing with hasty Steps the Dews away , " To meet the Sun upon the upland Lawn , 20 " There at the Foot of yonder nodding Beech , " That wreathes its old fantastic Roots so high , " His listless Length ...
... seen him at the Peep of Dawn " Brushing with hasty Steps the Dews away , " To meet the Sun upon the upland Lawn , 20 " There at the Foot of yonder nodding Beech , " That wreathes its old fantastic Roots so high , " His listless Length ...
Strona 4
... seen . .. 66 " The next we heard that in a neighbouring shire , " That day to church he led a blushing bride ; A nymph , whose snowy vest and maiden fear ' Improv'd her beauty while the knot was ty'd . " Now , by his patron's bounteous ...
... seen . .. 66 " The next we heard that in a neighbouring shire , " That day to church he led a blushing bride ; A nymph , whose snowy vest and maiden fear ' Improv'd her beauty while the knot was ty'd . " Now , by his patron's bounteous ...
Strona 5
... seen Breast of Snow , The coral Lip , the clear vermilion Bloom Awaits alike th ' inexorable Foe , The Paths of Pleasure lead but to the Tomb . Forgive , Ye fair , whom Britain's Sons admire , If This her meanest Bard incur your Blame ...
... seen Breast of Snow , The coral Lip , the clear vermilion Bloom Awaits alike th ' inexorable Foe , The Paths of Pleasure lead but to the Tomb . Forgive , Ye fair , whom Britain's Sons admire , If This her meanest Bard incur your Blame ...
Strona 6
... seen Him ' ere Aurora's Ray " Had faintly ting'd with red the op'ning Sky " Hasten to Church , and Join the Matin Lay . " There at the Tomb where Eloisa lies , 66 " He'd read th ' Inscription : and her Fate condole , " Then in his ...
... seen Him ' ere Aurora's Ray " Had faintly ting'd with red the op'ning Sky " Hasten to Church , and Join the Matin Lay . " There at the Tomb where Eloisa lies , 66 " He'd read th ' Inscription : and her Fate condole , " Then in his ...
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ancient bell beneath Bill blow boys brave breath burlesque Christabel cried crowd dear Deborah Lee Devil door dream e'en Eduard Strauss ELEGY eyes face fair fame fate fear fight fire Gilpin hand hath head hear heard heart imitation Ingoldsby Legends John John Gilpin lady laugh London look Lord Lord Byron Maryland morn ne'er never night O'Brine o'er once parody passed Peter Bell play poem poet poor Punch quoth rose round shore sigh sing smile song sorrow soul spake stand stood street sweet swells swore tears tell thee There's things THOMAS GRAY thou thought thro Tory town Tullamore Twas verses omitted voice W. M. THACKERAY Walt Whitman WILLIAM WORDSWORTH wind Wordsworth written Yankee Doodle Yankee doodle dandy youth
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 234 - Over earth and ocean with gentle motion This pilot is guiding me, Lured by the love of the genii that move In the depths of the purple sea ; Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills, Over the lakes and the plains, Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream, The Spirit he loves remains ; And I all the while bask in heaven's blue smile, Whilst he is dissolving in rains.
Strona 97 - She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay.
Strona 311 - It must be so ; Plato, thou reasonest well; Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, This longing after immortality? Or whence this secret dread and inward horror Of falling into nought? Why shrinks the soul Back on herself, and startles at destruction? 'Tis the Divinity that stirs within us ; 'Tis heaven itself that points out an hereafter, And intimates eternity to man.
Strona 234 - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun.
Strona 51 - A stranger yet to pain ! I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wing My weary soul they seem to soothe, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring.
Strona 76 - Ye winds, that have made me your sport Convey to this desolate shore Some cordial, endearing report Of a land I shall visit no more: My friends, do they now and then send A wish or a thought after me? Oh, tell me I yet have a friend, Though a friend I am never to see.
Strona 97 - A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet ; A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food : For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
Strona 313 - Her buskins gemmed with morning dew, Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung, The hunter's call to Faun and Dryad known ! The oak-crowned Sisters and their chaste-eyed Queen Satyrs and Sylvan Boys were seen Peeping from forth their alleys green : Brown Exercise rejoiced to hear ; And Sport leaped up, and seized his beechen spear.
Strona 124 - I played a soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story — An old rude song, that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. She listened with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace; For well she knew I could not choose But gaze upon her face.
Strona 88 - A simple Child, That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death ? I met a little cottage Girl : She was eight years old, she said ; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head. She had a rustic, woodland air, And she was wildly clad ; Her eyes were fair, and very fair, — Her beauty made me glad. " Sisters and brothers, little maid, How many may you be 1 " " How many t Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me. " And where...