The muses' bower, embellished with the beauties of English poetry, Том 3W. Plant Piercy, 1809 |
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Сторінка 2
... proud Aspiring mountain , or descending cloud ; Paul's , the late theme of such a Muse , * whose flight Has bravely reach'd aud soar'd above thy height ; Now shalt thou stand , tho ' sword , or time , or fire , Or zeal , more fierce ...
... proud Aspiring mountain , or descending cloud ; Paul's , the late theme of such a Muse , * whose flight Has bravely reach'd aud soar'd above thy height ; Now shalt thou stand , tho ' sword , or time , or fire , Or zeal , more fierce ...
Сторінка 3
... proud To be the basis of that pompous load , Than which a nobler weight no mountain bears , But Atlas only , which supports the spheres . When Nature's hand this ground did thus advance , ' Twas guided by a wiser pow'r than chance ...
... proud To be the basis of that pompous load , Than which a nobler weight no mountain bears , But Atlas only , which supports the spheres . When Nature's hand this ground did thus advance , ' Twas guided by a wiser pow'r than chance ...
Сторінка 10
... proud head the airy mountain hides Among the clouds ; his shoulders and his sides A shady mantle clothes ; his curled brows Frown on the gentle stream , which calmly flows , While winds and storms his lofty forehead beat ; The common ...
... proud head the airy mountain hides Among the clouds ; his shoulders and his sides A shady mantle clothes ; his curled brows Frown on the gentle stream , which calmly flows , While winds and storms his lofty forehead beat ; The common ...
Сторінка 14
... Proud of the wound , to it resigns his blood , And stains the crystal with a purple flood . This a more innocent and happy chase Than when of old , but in the self - same * place , Fair Liberty pursu'd , and meant a prey To lawless pow ...
... Proud of the wound , to it resigns his blood , And stains the crystal with a purple flood . This a more innocent and happy chase Than when of old , but in the self - same * place , Fair Liberty pursu'd , and meant a prey To lawless pow ...
Сторінка 17
... proud Olympus yields a nobler sight , Though Gods assembled grace his tow'ring height , Than what more humble mountains offer here , Where , in their blessings , all those Gods appear . See Pan with flocks ; with fruits Pomona crown'd ...
... proud Olympus yields a nobler sight , Though Gods assembled grace his tow'ring height , Than what more humble mountains offer here , Where , in their blessings , all those Gods appear . See Pan with flocks ; with fruits Pomona crown'd ...
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The muses' bower, embellished with the beauties of English poetry, Том 3 English poetry Повний перегляд - 1809 |
Загальні терміни та фрази
ancient beauty behold bending beneath bittern blest bliss bloom boast bosom breast breath bright charms cheerful climes clouds Cooper's Hill courser dark death delight earth Ev'n ev'ry fair fate fields fleece flies flocks flow'r flowers forests GEORGIC gloomy grave green Grongar Hill groves hand happy heart heav'n hill hour kings labour lake land lapwing Levina luxury lyre meads midst mighty mind morn mountains Muse Muse's Naiad Nature's ne'er nymph o'er pain peace plain pleas'd pow'r praise prey pride proud rage realms reign rill rise rocks round rude scene seraph shade shine shore silent skies smile song soul sound spread Spring stamp'd streams swain sweet SWEET Auburn swelling tempest thee thine thou thro Tobol toil tow'ring trees trembling Twas vale vallies verdant voice wandering wave wealth wide wild wind Windsor woodlark woods wretch youth
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Сторінка 149 - The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, The playful children just let loose from school, The watch-dog's voice that bayed the whispering wind. And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind, These all in sweet confusion sought the shade, And filled each pause the nightingale had made.
Сторінка 158 - Now lost to all — her friends, her virtue fled — Near her betrayer's door she lays her head, And, pinch'd with cold, and shrinking from the shower, With heavy heart deplores that luckless hour When idly first, ambitious of the town, She left her wheel, and robes of country brown.
Сторінка 218 - If I am right, Thy grace impart Still in the right to stay ; If I am wrong, oh, teach my heart To find that better way!
Сторінка 217 - Yet gave me, in this dark estate, To see the good from ill; And, binding nature fast in fate, Left free the human will.
Сторінка 147 - Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay : Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade ; A breath can make them, as a breath has made ; But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroyed, can never be supplied.
Сторінка 146 - How often have I blest the coming day, When toil remitting lent its turn to play, And all the village train, from labour free, Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree ; While many a pastime circled in the shade, The young contending as the old surveyed ; And many a gambol frolicked o'er the ground, And sleights of art and feats of strength went round...
Сторінка 155 - Not so the loss. The man of wealth and pride Takes up a space that many poor supplied — Space for his lake, his park's extended bounds, Space for his horses, equipage, and hounds ; The robe that wraps his limbs in silken sloth, Has robbed the neighbouring fields of half their growth; His seat, where solitary sports are seen, Indignant spurns the cottage from the green...
Сторінка 140 - Stern o'er each bosom reason holds her state With daring aims irregularly great ; Pride in their port, defiance in their eye, I see the lords of human kind pass by...
Сторінка 153 - For e'en though vanquish'd, he could argue still ; While words of learned length, and thundering sound, Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around ; And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew That one small head could carry all he knew. But past is all his fame. The very spot Where many a time he triumph'd, is forgot. Near yonder thorn, that lifts its head on high, Where once the sign-post caught the passing eye...
Сторінка 221 - But wandering oft, with brute unconscious gaze, Man marks not Thee, marks not the mighty hand That, ever busy, wheels the silent spheres ; Works in the secret deep ; shoots steaming thence The fair profusion that o'erspreads the Spring...