The muses' bower, embellished with the beauties of English poetry, Том 3W. Plant Piercy, 1809 |
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... swelling net . Thus ( if small things we may with great compare ) When Albion sends her eager sons to war , Some thoughtless town , with ease and plenty blest , Near , and more near , the closing lines invest ; Sudden they seize th ...
... swelling net . Thus ( if small things we may with great compare ) When Albion sends her eager sons to war , Some thoughtless town , with ease and plenty blest , Near , and more near , the closing lines invest ; Sudden they seize th ...
Сторінка 29
... swelling waters , and alternate tides ; The figur'd streams in waves of silver roll❜d , And on her banks Augusta rose in gold . Around his throne the sea - born brothers stood , Who swell with tributary urns his flood : First the fam'd ...
... swelling waters , and alternate tides ; The figur'd streams in waves of silver roll❜d , And on her banks Augusta rose in gold . Around his throne the sea - born brothers stood , Who swell with tributary urns his flood : First the fam'd ...
Сторінка 32
... swelling tide , And seas but join the regions they divide ; Earth's distant ends our glory shall behold , And the new world launch forth to seek the old . Then ships of uncouth form shall stem the tide , And feather'd people croud my ...
... swelling tide , And seas but join the regions they divide ; Earth's distant ends our glory shall behold , And the new world launch forth to seek the old . Then ships of uncouth form shall stem the tide , And feather'd people croud my ...
Сторінка 35
... What a landscape lies below ! No clouds , no vapours intervene , But the gay , the open scene Does the face of nature show , In all the hues of heav'n's bow ! And , swelling to embrace the light , Spreads around DYER . ] 35 GRONGAR HILL .
... What a landscape lies below ! No clouds , no vapours intervene , But the gay , the open scene Does the face of nature show , In all the hues of heav'n's bow ! And , swelling to embrace the light , Spreads around DYER . ] 35 GRONGAR HILL .
Сторінка 36
English poetry. And , swelling to embrace the light , Spreads around beneath the sight . Old castles on the cliffs arise , Proudly tow'ring in the skies ! Rushing from the woods , the spires Seem from hence ascending fires ! Half his ...
English poetry. And , swelling to embrace the light , Spreads around beneath the sight . Old castles on the cliffs arise , Proudly tow'ring in the skies ! Rushing from the woods , the spires Seem from hence ascending fires ! Half his ...
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The muses' bower, embellished with the beauties of English poetry, Том 3 English poetry Повний перегляд - 1809 |
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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...