Select Works of the British Poets: In a Chronological Series from Falconer to Sir Walter ScottThomas Wardle, 1838 - 732 |
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Strona 31
... dead ! Those who remain , their fearful doom await , Nor longer mourn their lost companions ' fate ; The heart , that bleeds with sorrows all its own , Forgets the pangs of friendship to bemoan.- Albert and Rodmond , and Palemon here ...
... dead ! Those who remain , their fearful doom await , Nor longer mourn their lost companions ' fate ; The heart , that bleeds with sorrows all its own , Forgets the pangs of friendship to bemoan.- Albert and Rodmond , and Palemon here ...
Strona 34
... dead ! How hast thou left the widow all forlorn , And ever doom'd the orphan child to mourn ; Through life's sad journey hopeless to complain ! Can sacred Justice these events ordain ? But , O my soul ! avoid that wondrous maze Where ...
... dead ! How hast thou left the widow all forlorn , And ever doom'd the orphan child to mourn ; Through life's sad journey hopeless to complain ! Can sacred Justice these events ordain ? But , O my soul ! avoid that wondrous maze Where ...
Strona 58
... dead , You with fleet Pelides rest , And with godlike Diomed . Verdant myrtle's branchy pride Shall my thirsty blade entwine : Such , Harmodius ! deck'd thy side ; Such , Aristogiton ! thine . They the base Hipparchus slew At the feast ...
... dead , You with fleet Pelides rest , And with godlike Diomed . Verdant myrtle's branchy pride Shall my thirsty blade entwine : Such , Harmodius ! deck'd thy side ; Such , Aristogiton ! thine . They the base Hipparchus slew At the feast ...
Strona 72
... dead ! What tombs of various kinds are found ! And stones erect their shadows shed On humble graves , with wickers bound ; Some risen fresh above the ground , Some level with the native clay , What sleeping millions wait the sound ...
... dead ! What tombs of various kinds are found ! And stones erect their shadows shed On humble graves , with wickers bound ; Some risen fresh above the ground , Some level with the native clay , What sleeping millions wait the sound ...
Strona 74
... dead , my father lost , I wander'd with a vagrant crew ; A common care , a common cost , Their sorrows and their sins I knew ; With them , by want on error forced , Like them , I base and guilty grew . Few are my years , not so my ...
... dead , my father lost , I wander'd with a vagrant crew ; A common care , a common cost , Their sorrows and their sins I knew ; With them , by want on error forced , Like them , I base and guilty grew . Few are my years , not so my ...
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Select Works of the British Poets,: In a Chronological Series from Falconer ... John Frost,John Aikin Podgląd niedostępny - 2015 |
Kluczowe wyrazy i wyrażenia
art thou auld auld lang syne beauty behold beneath birks of Aberfeldy bless'd bonnie bosom breast breath charm cried dear delight dread e'en fair fame fate father fear feel felt fix'd fond frae Fulham gentle grace grief hand hear heard heart heaven hope hope and fear hour humble knew lady lassie light live look look'd Lord maid maun mind muse ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er once pain Palemon pass'd peace Petrarch pleasure poor praise pride rest Rodmond round Sabbath sail scene scorn seem'd shifting sail shore sigh silent sleep smile song soon soothe sorrow soul spirit sweet tale tears thee thine thou art thought trembling truth turn'd Twas vex'd voice wandering wave Whyles wife wild wind wyfe wyllowe youth
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 230 - O' my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn's blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasp'd her to my bosom ! The golden hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my dearie ; For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi' mony a vow and lock'd embrace Our parting was fu...
Strona 215 - From scenes like these old Scotia's grandeur springs, That makes her loved at home, revered abroad: Princes and lords are but the breath of kings, 'An honest man's the noblest work of God;' And certes, in fair virtue's heavenly road, The cottage leaves the palace far behind; What is a lordling's pomp? a cumbrous load, Disguising oft the wretch of human kind, Studied in arts of hell, in wickedness refin'd!
Strona 237 - I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy, Naething could resist my Nancy ; But to see her was to love her ; Love but her, and love for ever. Had we never loved sae kindly, Had we never loved sae blindly, Never met — or never parted, We had ne'er been broken-hearted.
Strona 215 - What makes the youth sae bashfu' an' sae grave: Weel pleased to think her bairn's respected like the lave. O happy love! where love like this is found! O heartfelt raptures! bliss beyond compare! I've paced much this weary, mortal round, And sage experience bids me this declare: — If Heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare, One cordial in this melancholy vale, 'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair In other's arms breathe out the tender tale, Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the...
Strona 235 - And mony a hill between ; But day and night my fancy's flight Is ever wi' my Jean. I see her in the dewy flowers, I see her sweet and fair : I hear her in the tunefu...
Strona 64 - Where low-browed baseness wafts perfume to pride. No; Men, high-minded men, With powers as far above dull brutes endued In forest, brake or den, As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude ; Men who their duties know, But know their rights, and, knowing, dare maintain, Prevent the long-aimed blow, And crush the tyrant while they rend the chain ; These constitute a State; And sovereign law, that State's collected will, O'er thrones and globes elate Sits empress, crowning good, repressing ill.
Strona 235 - John Anderson my jo. John Anderson my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither ; And mony a canty day, John, We've had wi' ane anither : Now we maun totter down, John, But hand in hand we'll go, And sleep thegither at the foot, John Anderson my jo.
Strona 228 - That hour o' night's black arch the key-stane, That dreary hour he mounts his beast in, And sic a night he taks the road in, As ne'er poor sinner was abroad in. The wind blew as 'twad blawn its last ; The rattling...
Strona 236 - Thou minds me o' the happy days When my fause luve was true. " Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird That sings beside thy mate ; For sae I sat, and sae I sang, And wist na o' my fate. " Aft hae I rov'd by bonie Doon, To see the woodbine twine, And ilka bird sang o' its love, And sae did I o
Strona 216 - Heaven their simple lives prevent From luxury's contagion, weak and vile ! Then, howe'er crowns and coronets be rent, A virtuous populace may rise the while, And stand, a wall of fire, around their much-loved isle.