New Elegant Extracts: A Unique Selection from the Most Eminent British Poets and Poetical Translators, Tom 3C. and C. Whittingham, 1823 |
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Strona 25
... , A thousand torches flamed aloof : From massy cups , with golden gleam , Sparkled the red metheglin's stream : VOL . III . E W. To grace the gorgeous festival , Along the lofty window'd ODES . 25 The Grave of King Arthur T Warton.
... , A thousand torches flamed aloof : From massy cups , with golden gleam , Sparkled the red metheglin's stream : VOL . III . E W. To grace the gorgeous festival , Along the lofty window'd ODES . 25 The Grave of King Arthur T Warton.
Strona 26
... grace the gorgeous festival , Along the lofty window'd hall , The storied tapestry was hung : With minstrelsy the rafter rung Of harps that with reflected light From the proud gallery glitter'd bright ; While gifted bards , a rival ...
... grace the gorgeous festival , Along the lofty window'd hall , The storied tapestry was hung : With minstrelsy the rafter rung Of harps that with reflected light From the proud gallery glitter'd bright ; While gifted bards , a rival ...
Strona 45
... grace , Servility that kneels to bless his chain ! Oh Liberty , those demons far remove : Come , nymph , severely good , sublimely great ; Nor to the ' enraptured hope of mortals prove Like those illusive dreams that pass the ivory gate ...
... grace , Servility that kneels to bless his chain ! Oh Liberty , those demons far remove : Come , nymph , severely good , sublimely great ; Nor to the ' enraptured hope of mortals prove Like those illusive dreams that pass the ivory gate ...
Strona 46
... grace is given ? Then say , what signs this god proclaim ? Dwells he amid the diamond's flame , A throne his hallow'd shrine ? The borrow'd pomp , the arm'd array , Want , Fear , and Impotence betray : Strange proofs of power divine ...
... grace is given ? Then say , what signs this god proclaim ? Dwells he amid the diamond's flame , A throne his hallow'd shrine ? The borrow'd pomp , the arm'd array , Want , Fear , and Impotence betray : Strange proofs of power divine ...
Strona 53
... grace : And pæans loud , in every tongue , And choral hymns resound ; And lengthening honours hand your name To time's remotest bound , Proceed ! your race of glory run , Your virtuous toils endure ! You come , commission'd from on high ...
... grace : And pæans loud , in every tongue , And choral hymns resound ; And lengthening honours hand your name To time's remotest bound , Proceed ! your race of glory run , Your virtuous toils endure ! You come , commission'd from on high ...
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Anacreon ANNA SEWARD beams beauty beneath blast bless'd bliss bloom blush bosom bowers breast breath bright brow CHARLOTTE SMITH charms cheek cheer courser crown'd Cumnor dark dear death deep delight dost doth dreams earth fair fairy Fancy fire flame flowers fond gale gentle Glastonbury Abbey gloom glory glowing golden grace green groves hail hast hath hear heart heaven hill Hope hour Ianthe Inchcape Rock King King Arthur light lonely lyre maid Motezuma mourn Muse Musidora Naiads Nature's night numbers nymph o'er Ovid pale Petrarch plain R. A. DAVENPORT rage rapture rills round scenes shade shed shine sighs silent sing sleep smile soft song soothe sorrow soul sound Spring storm stranger band stream sweet swell tears tempests thee thine thou train vale vermil voice wake wave weep wild wind wing youth
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 313 - Coral is far more red than her lips' red: If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound: I grant I never saw a goddess go; My mistress, when...
Strona 311 - Since there's no help, come, let us kiss and part! Nay, I have done. You get no more of me! And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free. Shake hands for ever! Cancel all our vows! And when we meet at any time again, Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain.
Strona 325 - Purification in the old law did save, And such, as yet once more I trust to have Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint, Came vested all in white, pure as her mind. Her face was...
Strona 328 - Phoebus lifts his golden fire: The birds in vain their amorous descant join, Or cheerful fields resume their green attire: These ears alas! for other notes repine; A different object do these eyes require; My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine; And in my breast the imperfect joys expire; Yet Morning smiles the busy race to cheer, And new-born pleasure brings to happier men; The fields to all their wonted tribute bear; To warm their little loves the birds complain. I fruitless mourn to him that...
Strona 312 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste...
Strona 311 - ... no help, come let us kiss and part, — Nay I have done, you get no more of me; And I am glad, yea glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free; Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows, And when we meet at any time again, Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain. Now at the last gasp of love's latest breath, When his pulse failing, passion speechless lies, When faith is kneeling by his bed of death, And innocence is closing up his eyes, —...
Strona 328 - In vain to me the smiling mornings shine, And reddening Phoebus lifts his golden fire : The birds in vain their amorous descant join, Or cheerful fields resume their green attire. These ears, alas ! for other notes repine ; A different object do these eyes require ; My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine ; And in my breast the imperfect joys expire...
Strona 16 - Woods ! that listen to the night-birds singing, Midway the smooth and perilous slope reclined, Save when your own imperious branches swinging, Have made a solemn music of the wind ! Where, like a man beloved of God, Through glooms, which never woodman trod...
Strona 74 - Now air is hushed, save where the weak-eyed bat, With short, shrill shriek, flits by on leathern wing; Or where the beetle winds His small but sullen horn...
Strona 306 - The turtle to her mate hath told her tale. Summer is come, for every spray now springs: The hart hath hung his old head on the pale; The buck in brake his winter coat he flings ; The fishes flete with new repaired scale.