Addison to BlakeThomas Humphry Ward Macmillan, 1921 |
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Сторінка 4
... pass , Nor fens nor floods can stop Britannia's bands , When her proud foe rang'd on their borders stands . But O , my muse , what numbers wilt thou find To sing the furious troops in battle join'd ! Methinks I hear the drum's ...
... pass , Nor fens nor floods can stop Britannia's bands , When her proud foe rang'd on their borders stands . But O , my muse , what numbers wilt thou find To sing the furious troops in battle join'd ! Methinks I hear the drum's ...
Сторінка 21
... pass for a most virtuous dame , And I for an unhappy poet . Then too , alas ! when she shall tear The lines some younger rival sends ; She'll give me leave to write , I fear , And we shall still continue friends . For , as our different ...
... pass for a most virtuous dame , And I for an unhappy poet . Then too , alas ! when she shall tear The lines some younger rival sends ; She'll give me leave to write , I fear , And we shall still continue friends . For , as our different ...
Сторінка 48
... owns himself to blame , ) He found the wisest man he could , Without respect to friends or blood ; Nor ever acts on private views , When he has liberty to choose . The Sharper swore he hated play , Except to pass 48 THE ENGLISH POETS .
... owns himself to blame , ) He found the wisest man he could , Without respect to friends or blood ; Nor ever acts on private views , When he has liberty to choose . The Sharper swore he hated play , Except to pass 48 THE ENGLISH POETS .
Сторінка 49
Thomas Humphry Ward. The Sharper swore he hated play , Except to pass an hour away : And well he might ; for , to his cost , By want of skill , he always lost ; He heard there was a club of cheats , Who had contrived a thousand feats ...
Thomas Humphry Ward. The Sharper swore he hated play , Except to pass an hour away : And well he might ; for , to his cost , By want of skill , he always lost ; He heard there was a club of cheats , Who had contrived a thousand feats ...
Сторінка 52
... pass the glibber , Revised by Tibbalds , Moore , and Cibber . He'll treat me as he does my betters , Publish my will , my life , my letters : Revive the libels born to die ; Which Pope must bear , as well as I. Here shift the scene , to ...
... pass the glibber , Revised by Tibbalds , Moore , and Cibber . He'll treat me as he does my betters , Publish my will , my life , my letters : Revive the libels born to die ; Which Pope must bear , as well as I. Here shift the scene , to ...
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Загальні терміни та фрази
admiration Ambrose Philips auld beauty beneath Birks of Aberfeldy blest born breast breath Burns CHARLES WESLEY charm Chatterton Cowper dear death delight Dryden Dunciad English English poetry Epistle ev'ry eyes fair fame fate feel fool frae genius GEORGE SAINTSBURY glory grace grave Gray Grongar Hill hand happy hear heart Heaven Horace Walpole human hymns John JOHN BYROM John Wesley King labour lassie live Lord lyre lyric mind muse nature ne'er never night numbers o'er once pain passion perhaps Pindaric pleasure poem poet poet's poetical poetry Pope Pope's praise pride prose rhyme rise round satire sense shade shine sing smile song soul spirit sweet taste tear tell thee thine things thou thought thro toil truth Twas verse virtue Whig wind wings write youth
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Сторінка 568 - Guid faith he mauna fa' that ! For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities, and a' that, The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, Are higher rank than a' that. Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will for a' that ; That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, May bear the gree, and a' that. For a
Сторінка 376 - A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year; Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change, his place...
Сторінка 378 - To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven. As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm. Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.
Сторінка 331 - Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
Сторінка 375 - In all my wanderings round this world of care, In all my griefs - and God has given my share I still had hopes my latest hours to crown, Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down; To husband out life's taper at the close, And keep the flame from wasting by repose.
Сторінка 373 - ... how often have I blessed 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 frolick'd o'er the ground, and sleights of art and feats of strength went round...
Сторінка 287 - How sleep the brave who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung ; By forms unseen their dirge is sung ; There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; And freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there ! ODE TO MERCY.
Сторінка 332 - Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire ; Hands that the rod of empire might have swayed, Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre. But knowledge to their eyes her ample page, Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll ; Chill penury repressed their noble rage, And froze the genial current of the soul.
Сторінка 551 - John Anderson my jo. John Anderson my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither ; And mony a canty day, John, We've had wi' ane anither : Now we maun totter down, John, But hand in hand we'll go, And sleep thegither at the foot, John Anderson my jo.
Сторінка 565 - Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha sae base as be a slave? Let him turn and flee! Wha for Scotland's King and law Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Freeman stand, or freeman fa'?