Readings on PoetryR. Hunter, (successor to J. Johnson,) ... and Baldwin, Cradock, and Joy, 1816 - 212 стор. |
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Сторінка 39
... o'er my soul diffuse ; O'er all my artless song preside , My footsteps to thy temple guide , To offer at thy turf - built shrine In golden cups , no costly wine , No murder'd firstling of the flock , But flowers , and honey from the ...
... o'er my soul diffuse ; O'er all my artless song preside , My footsteps to thy temple guide , To offer at thy turf - built shrine In golden cups , no costly wine , No murder'd firstling of the flock , But flowers , and honey from the ...
Сторінка 49
... o'er the hills of slain , Where tumult and destruction reign , Where mad with pain the wounded steed Tramples the dying and the dead : Where giant terror stalks around , With sullen joy surveys the ground , And pointing to the ...
... o'er the hills of slain , Where tumult and destruction reign , Where mad with pain the wounded steed Tramples the dying and the dead : Where giant terror stalks around , With sullen joy surveys the ground , And pointing to the ...
Сторінка 56
... o'er thy darling grave ; Oh ! queen of numbers once again Animate some chosen swain , Who filled with unexhausted fire , May boldly smite the sounding lyre ; May rise above the rhyming throng , And with some new unequall'd song , O'er ...
... o'er thy darling grave ; Oh ! queen of numbers once again Animate some chosen swain , Who filled with unexhausted fire , May boldly smite the sounding lyre ; May rise above the rhyming throng , And with some new unequall'd song , O'er ...
Сторінка 59
... o'er Olympus ran- When thus the mornarch of the stars began . " Parnell with much address points out that his story is entirely fabulous , by leaving the time and place of the action undetermined - this he does by saying , no matter ...
... o'er Olympus ran- When thus the mornarch of the stars began . " Parnell with much address points out that his story is entirely fabulous , by leaving the time and place of the action undetermined - this he does by saying , no matter ...
Сторінка 80
... o'er her shoulders waved like melted gold . Around her next a heav'nly mantle flow'd , That rich with Pallas ' labour'd colours glow'd . Large clasps of gold ; the foldings gather'd round , A golden zone her swelling bosom bound . Far ...
... o'er her shoulders waved like melted gold . Around her next a heav'nly mantle flow'd , That rich with Pallas ' labour'd colours glow'd . Large clasps of gold ; the foldings gather'd round , A golden zone her swelling bosom bound . Far ...
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Загальні терміни та фрази
Adversity alludes ancient appear armour Bard beautiful blush breast breathe caduceus called charms chil clouds colours creature crested crown despair Doctor Johnson dress earth Edgeworth Edward Enfield's Speaker ETON COLLEGE expression fair Fancy fate feel fire fury Gales give glory Goddess Gorgon grace head heaven Hesiod Homer house of York imagination imitation invention Johnson Jove judgement lance Latin lines lyre MARIA EDGEWORTH means merates Milton mind morn Muses nymphs o'er OVID pain Pandora Paradise Paradise Lost Parnel parody passage passion persons pleasing pleasure Plinlimmon poem poet poetical poetry praise Prometheus pupils purple quaternion queen rapture reign RICHARD LOVELL EDGEWORTH rise rock Ross round sense sentence shew sire smiles solemn song soul sound species stars sublime supposed sweet taste thee thing thou tion vale Venus verse Virtue wandering fires wave weave winding wings word young readers youth
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Сторінка 29 - Shame that skulks behind; Or pining Love shall waste their youth, Or Jealousy with rankling tooth That inly gnaws the secret heart, And Envy wan, and faded Care, Grim-visaged comfortless Despair, And Sorrow's piercing dart. Ambition this shall tempt to rise, Then whirl the wretch from high To bitter Scorn a sacrifice And grinning Infamy. The stings of Falsehood those shall try And hard Unkindness...
Сторінка 121 - The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself; * Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like the baseless fabric of a vision, Leave not a wreck behind.
Сторінка 24 - Gainst graver hours, that bring constraint To sweeten liberty: Some bold adventurers disdain The limits of their little reign And unknown regions dare descry: Still as they run they look behind, They hear a voice in every wind, And snatch a fearful joy.
Сторінка 117 - But neither breath of morn, when she ascends With charm of earliest birds; nor rising sun On this delightful land ; nor herb, fruit, flower, Glistering with dew; nor fragrance after showers, Nor grateful evening mild; nor silent night, With this her solemn bird ; nor walk by moon, Or glittering star-light, without thee is sweet.
Сторінка 27 - Alas! regardless of their doom The little victims play; No sense have they of ills to come Nor care beyond to-day: Yet see how all around 'em wait The ministers of human fate And black Misfortune's baleful train!
Сторінка 113 - His praise, ye Winds, that from four quarters blow, Breathe soft or loud ; and, wave your tops, ye Pines, With every plant, in sign of worship wave. Fountains, and ye that warble, as ye flow, Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise. Join voices all ye living Souls: Ye Birds, That singing up to Heaven-gate ascend, Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise.
Сторінка 32 - That every labouring sinew strains, Those in the deeper vitals rage ; Lo ! Poverty, to fill the band, That numbs the soul with icy hand, And slow-consuming Age.
Сторінка 103 - And ye five other wandering fires that move In mystic dance not without song, resound His praise, who out of darkness called up light. Air, and ye elements, the eldest birth Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix And nourish all things, let your ceaseless change Vary to our great Maker still new praise.
Сторінка 152 - On a rock, whose haughty brow, Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood, Robed in the sable garb of woe, With haggard eyes the Poet stood ; (Loose his beard, and hoary hair Streamed, like a meteor, to the troubled air) And with a Master's hand, and Prophet's fire, Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre.
Сторінка 186 - He spoke, and headlong from the mountain's height Deep in the roaring tide he plunged to endless night.