Bell's Classical Arrangement of Fugitive Poetry: Vol. X.John Bell, 1789 - 192 עמודים |
מתוך הספר
תוצאות 1-5 מתוך 14
עמוד 33
... fame ; For my whole guerdon grant me but a smile , A smile from You is all I hope or claim ; Nor age's ice my ardent zeal shall tame , To my life's end I shall your names adore , Not hermits bosoms feel so pure a flame , Warm'd by ...
... fame ; For my whole guerdon grant me but a smile , A smile from You is all I hope or claim ; Nor age's ice my ardent zeal shall tame , To my life's end I shall your names adore , Not hermits bosoms feel so pure a flame , Warm'd by ...
עמוד 53
... fame amate : Unto the summons loud the portal opens streit . IX . And forth there issued the seneschal , Of middle age he was , if right I ween , He was in personage both plump and tall , Ne seemed he to taste of dolorous teen , Ne ...
... fame amate : Unto the summons loud the portal opens streit . IX . And forth there issued the seneschal , Of middle age he was , if right I ween , He was in personage both plump and tall , Ne seemed he to taste of dolorous teen , Ne ...
עמוד 57
... fame of those ybred in school severe ; His rankling tongue throughout the rolling year With baleful venom every thing consumes ; Where beauty's splendor gilds our northern sphere He slyly creeps , and to destruction dooms The honor of ...
... fame of those ybred in school severe ; His rankling tongue throughout the rolling year With baleful venom every thing consumes ; Where beauty's splendor gilds our northern sphere He slyly creeps , and to destruction dooms The honor of ...
עמוד 61
... , To see my dearling's fame thus vildly torn ? Have I not cause to nourish endless pain ? ” At this he deeply sigh'd , and wept full sore again . XXX . " Curst be this blatant - beast , Poem III . 61 STANZA OF SPENSER .
... , To see my dearling's fame thus vildly torn ? Have I not cause to nourish endless pain ? ” At this he deeply sigh'd , and wept full sore again . XXX . " Curst be this blatant - beast , Poem III . 61 STANZA OF SPENSER .
עמוד 62
... fame hath truth display'd , Full many a spectre was at midnight seen , Torn from his earthly grave , a horrid sight ! I ween . XXXII . Ne rose , ne vi'let , glads the chearless bow'r , Ne fringed pink from earth's green bosom grew , But ...
... fame hath truth display'd , Full many a spectre was at midnight seen , Torn from his earthly grave , a horrid sight ! I ween . XXXII . Ne rose , ne vi'let , glads the chearless bow'r , Ne fringed pink from earth's green bosom grew , But ...
מהדורות אחרות - הצג הכל
מונחים וביטויים נפוצים
adorn auncient beauteous beauty beneath birdlime Bishop of London blatant-beast bliss bosom bowre breast bright cave certes changd charms cliffs Columbel coursers Cupid dale dark Edwin eyes FAERIE QUEENE fair fallow deer fame Fancy farre Favonius fell flame flowery flowre gale gentle grace green grove happy heart heaven hight hill hope Kathrin Knight lawnskepe Lemman Lycon lyre maid mind morn mote murmuring Muse Nature's ne'er never Nymph o'er pain pale peace perdie Phoebus Poem powre pride Psyche quoth rage rill rise rose forbear round rovd scene seem'd shade shepherd sight skie smile smyle song soon sooth soul Spenser spleen Squire of Dames stream stronds swain sweet Syr Martyns tale tear thee thine thou thrall toil truth vale virtue wander warbling wave ween wend wight wild wings wylde youth
קטעים בולטים
עמוד 127 - Hail, awful scenes, that calm the troubled breast, And woo the weary to profound repose ! Can Passion's wildest uproar lay to rest, And whisper comfort to the man of woes ! Here Innocence may wander, safe from foes, And Contemplation soar on seraph wings.
עמוד 106 - In truth he was a strange and wayward wight, Fond of each gentle, and each dreadful scene. In darkness, and in storm, he found delight : Nor less, than when on. ocean-wave serene The southern sun diffused his dazzling...
עמוד 100 - O how canst thou renounce the boundless store Of charms which Nature to her votary yields ! The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields; All that the genial ray of morning gilds, And all that echoes to the song of even, All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, And all the dread magnificence of heaven, O how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven I X.
עמוד 113 - O Nature, how in every charm supreme ! Whose votaries feast on raptures ever new ! O for the voice and fire of seraphim, To sing thy glories with devotion due ! Blest be the day I 'scaped the wrangling crew. From Pyrrho's maze, and Epicurus...
עמוד 130 - Let Vanity adorn the marble tomb With trophies, rhymes, and scutcheons of renown, In the deep dungeon of some Gothic dome, Where night and desolation ever frown. Mine be the breezy hill that skirts the down ; Where a green grassy turf is all I crave, With here and there a violet bestrown, Fast by a brook, or fountain's murmuring wave. And many an evening sun shine sweetly on my grave.
עמוד 138 - Sweet were your shades, O ye primeval groves ! Whose boughs to man his food and shelter lent, Pure in his pleasures, happy in his loves, His eye still smiling, and his heart content. Then, hand in hand, health, sport, and labour went. Nature supply'd the wish she taught to crave.
עמוד 115 - O cruel ! will no pang of pity pierce That heart, by lust of lucre sear'd to stone ? For sure, if aught of virtue last, or verse, To latest times shall tender souls bemoan Those hopeless orphan-babes by thy fell arts undone.
עמוד 97 - I who can tell how hard it is to climb The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar...
עמוד 148 - Warbling at will through each harmonious maze, Was taught to modulate the artful strain, I fain would sing : — but ah ! I strive in vain. Sighs from a breaking heart my voice confound . With trembling step, to join yon weeping train , I haste, where gleams funereal glare around, And, mix'd with shrieks of woe, the knells of death resound. LXII. Adieu, ye lays, that Fancy's flowers adorn, The soft amusement of the vacant mind...
עמוד 123 - OF chance or change, 0 let not man complain, Else shall he never, never cease to wail ; For, from the imperial dome, to where the swain Rears the lone cottage in the silent dale, All feel the assault of Fortune's fickle gale...