The English Poets: Ben Jonson to DrydenThomas Humphry Ward Macmillan and Company, 1880 |
מתוך הספר
תוצאות 1-5 מתוך 64
עמוד 2
... souls of men , or lightly to move the mirth of the multitude , was and is beyond the power of his poetic genius . To dissolve its inspirations in wantonness , or to satisfy coarse appetites with the husks of its fruits , was incom ...
... souls of men , or lightly to move the mirth of the multitude , was and is beyond the power of his poetic genius . To dissolve its inspirations in wantonness , or to satisfy coarse appetites with the husks of its fruits , was incom ...
עמוד 4
... soul , ' or a hint of the Queen's which he had to develope as ladies ' hints sometimes require , his aim was chiefly to give something of dramatic life as well as of deeper meaning to his occasional pieces . Not only was he re- solved ...
... soul , ' or a hint of the Queen's which he had to develope as ladies ' hints sometimes require , his aim was chiefly to give something of dramatic life as well as of deeper meaning to his occasional pieces . Not only was he re- solved ...
עמוד 7
... soul towards things divine , which stands in strange and touching contrast to the high mettle and quick temper of his bearing in mcst other matters . Critics have been known to cry out against having to hear too much about the ...
... soul towards things divine , which stands in strange and touching contrast to the high mettle and quick temper of his bearing in mcst other matters . Critics have been known to cry out against having to hear too much about the ...
עמוד 14
... soul doth rise , Doth ask a drink divine : But might I of Jove's nectar sup , I would not change for thine . I sent thee late a rosy wreath , Not so much honouring thee , As giving it a hope , that there It could not withered be . But ...
... soul doth rise , Doth ask a drink divine : But might I of Jove's nectar sup , I would not change for thine . I sent thee late a rosy wreath , Not so much honouring thee , As giving it a hope , that there It could not withered be . But ...
עמוד 15
... soul I purposed her that should , with even powers , The rock , the spindle , and the shears control Of Destiny , and spin her own free hours . Such when I meant to feign , and wished to see , My Muse bade BEDFORD write , and that was ...
... soul I purposed her that should , with even powers , The rock , the spindle , and the shears control Of Destiny , and spin her own free hours . Such when I meant to feign , and wished to see , My Muse bade BEDFORD write , and that was ...
מהדורות אחרות - הצג הכל
מונחים וביטויים נפוצים
Absalom and Achitophel Æneid beauty Ben Jonson born breast breath bright Carew Castara Comus conceits Cowley Crashaw death delight died divine dost doth Dryden earth EDMUND W English English poetry eternal eyes fair fame fancy fate fear fire flame flowers Giles Fletcher glory Gondibert grace hand happy hast hath heart heaven hell Herbert heroic couplet Herrick Hesperides hill honour Hudibras Jonson King Lady light live Lord lost Lycidas Milton mind mistress Muse nature never night o'er once Paradise Paradise Lost Paradise Regained passion Perilla Pindar pleasure poems poet poet's poetic poetry praise pride rose sacred shade shalt shine sighs sight sing sleep song sonnet soul spirit stars sweet tears thee thine things thou thought tree verse Waller wanton weep winds wings write youth
קטעים בולטים
עמוד 324 - Alas ! what boots it with incessant care To tend the homely slighted shepherd's trade, And strictly meditate the thankless Muse? Were it not better done as others use, To sport with Amaryllis in the shade, Or with the tangles of Nesera's hair ? Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights, and live laborious days...
עמוד 458 - A man so various that he seemed to be Not one, but all mankind's epitome : Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong, Was everything by starts and nothing long ; But in the course of one revolving moon Was chymist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon ; Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking, Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking.
עמוד 315 - And bring all heaven before mine eyes. And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
עמוד 218 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
עמוד 455 - A daring pilot in extremity, Pleased with the danger, when the waves went high, He sought the storms ; but, for a calm unfit, Would steer too nigh the sands to boast his wit.
עמוד 309 - Hard by, a cottage chimney smokes From betwixt two aged oaks, Where Corydon and Thyrsis met, Are at their savoury dinner set Of herbs, and other country messes, Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses, And then in haste her bower she leaves, With Thestylis to bind the sheaves; Or, if the earlier season lead, To the tann'd haycock in the mead. Sometimes, with secure delight, The upland hamlets will invite, When the merry bells ring round, And the jocund rebecks sound To many a youth and many a maid...
עמוד 301 - I am now indebted, as being a work not to be raised from the heat of youth, or the vapours of wine, like that which flows at waste from the pen of some vulgar amourist, or the trencher fury of a rhyming parasite ; nor to be obtained by the invocation of dame Memory and her siren daughters ; but by devout prayer to that eternal spirit, who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his seraphim with the hallowed fire of his altar to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases...
עמוד 324 - Phoebus replied, and touched my trembling ears ; ' Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil, Nor in the glistering foil Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies ; But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes And perfect witness of all-judging Jove ; As he pronounces lastly on each deed, Of so much fame in heaven expect thy meed.
עמוד 274 - Go, lovely Rose! Tell her, that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died.
עמוד 326 - Weep no more, woeful shepherds, weep no more, For Lycidas, your sorrow, is not dead, Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor. So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore Flames in the forehead of the morning sky...