Foliorum silvula, selections for translation into Latin and Greek verse, by H.A. Holden, Tom 1Hubert Ashton Holden 1864 |
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Strona 10
... wave , exclaimed in fear - ' I perish in this grave ; ' but in a shell received , that drop of dew unto a pearl of marvellous beauty grew ; and , happy now , the grace did magnify which thrust it forth , as it had feared , to die ...
... wave , exclaimed in fear - ' I perish in this grave ; ' but in a shell received , that drop of dew unto a pearl of marvellous beauty grew ; and , happy now , the grace did magnify which thrust it forth , as it had feared , to die ...
Strona 17
... waves ' dashing roar , there would I weep my woes , there seek my lost repose , till grief my eyes should close , ne'er to wake more . Falsest of womankind , canst thou declare all thy fond - plighted vows - fleeting as air ? to thy new ...
... waves ' dashing roar , there would I weep my woes , there seek my lost repose , till grief my eyes should close , ne'er to wake more . Falsest of womankind , canst thou declare all thy fond - plighted vows - fleeting as air ? to thy new ...
Strona 18
... waves dance up and down and play , sport is granted to the sea : birds are the queristers of th ' empty air , sport is never wanting there , the ground doth smile at the spring's flowery birth , sport is granted to the earth : the fire ...
... waves dance up and down and play , sport is granted to the sea : birds are the queristers of th ' empty air , sport is never wanting there , the ground doth smile at the spring's flowery birth , sport is granted to the earth : the fire ...
Strona 34
... wave to murmur dirges round his grave . SONG H , how hard it is to find the one just suited to our mind ; and if that one should be false , unkind , or found too late , what can we do but sigh at fate , and sing ' Woe's me - Woe's me ...
... wave to murmur dirges round his grave . SONG H , how hard it is to find the one just suited to our mind ; and if that one should be false , unkind , or found too late , what can we do but sigh at fate , and sing ' Woe's me - Woe's me ...
Strona 48
... wave , and Nature's children did her poet save . SONNET TO THE RIVER OTTER DEAR EAR native brook ! wild streamlet of the West ! how many various - fated years have past , what happy , and what mournful hours , since last I skimm'd the ...
... wave , and Nature's children did her poet save . SONNET TO THE RIVER OTTER DEAR EAR native brook ! wild streamlet of the West ! how many various - fated years have past , what happy , and what mournful hours , since last I skimm'd the ...
Kluczowe wyrazy i wyrażenia
beauty beneath birds blest bloom breast breath bright brow calm clouds College COMEDY OF ERRORS Conic Sections crown dead death deep delight didst dost doth dream earth eyes fair fate fear flowers gentle glory golden grove happy hast hath hear heart heaven honour hour J. R. SEELEY J. W. DONALDSON life's light live Lord LORD BYRON lyre mourn ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er P. B. SHELLEY peace Pembroke College pleasure roses round shade shine shore sigh sing skies sleep smile soft song SOPHOCLES sorrow soul sound spirit spring St John's College stars storm stream summer sweet tears thee thine Third Edition thou art Trinity College unto vale voice waves weep whilst wild winds wings WORDSWORTH youth γὰρ δὲ ἐν ἐπὶ ἐς καὶ μὲν οὐ τὰ τε τὸ τὸν
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 172 - The oracles are dumb; No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving: Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving: No nightly trance or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
Strona 248 - Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is : What if my leaves are falling like its own ! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, spirit fierce, My spirit ! Be thou me, impetuous one ! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth...
Strona 248 - WILD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou, Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill (Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air) With...
Strona 216 - Now strike the golden lyre again : A louder yet, and yet a louder strain ! Break his bands of sleep asunder And rouse him like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark, hark ! the horrid sound Has raised up his head : As awaked from the dead And amazed he stares around. Revenge, revenge...
Strona 9 - It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make Man better be ; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere : A lily of a day Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night — It was the plant and flower of Light. In small proportions we just beauties see ; And in short measures life may perfect be.
Strona 171 - No war, or battle's sound, Was heard the world around : The idle spear and shield were high up hung ; The hooked chariot stood Unstained with hostile blood ; The trumpet spake not to the armed throng ; And kings sat still with awful eye, As if they surely knew their sovereign Lord was by.
Strona 267 - He who hath bent him o'er the dead Ere the first day of death is fled, The first dark day of nothingness, The last of danger and distress...
Strona 145 - I'll never love thee more. As Alexander I will reign, And I will reign alone ; My thoughts did evermore disdain A rival on my throne. He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who dares not put it to the touch To gain or lose it all.
Strona 46 - Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men. Oh! raise us up, return to us again; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.