The English Poets: Addison to BlakeThomas Humphry Ward Macmillan and Company, 1881 |
Зміст
130 | |
145 | |
154 | |
159 | |
168 | |
183 | |
194 | |
203 | |
217 | |
230 | |
239 | |
245 | |
251 | |
265 | |
271 | |
278 | |
294 | |
300 | |
302 | |
318 | |
396 | |
412 | |
422 | |
447 | |
453 | |
459 | |
486 | |
499 | |
512 | |
525 | |
531 | |
537 | |
543 | |
549 | |
560 | |
566 | |
572 | |
581 | |
600 | |
607 | |
Інші видання - Показати все
Загальні терміни та фрази
admiration Æsop Ambrose Philips beauty beneath blest born breast breath charm couplet court critics death delight Dryden Dunciad Eclogues English English poetry Epistle Essay Essay on Criticism Ev'n ev'ry eyes fair fame fate feel fool frae genius GEORGE SAINTSBURY grace grave Gray Grongar Hill hand happy head heart heaven Horace Horace Walpole kings knave labour literary live Lord Lord Hervey lyre mind moral muse nature ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er once pain passion Pindaric pleasure poem poet poet's poetical poetry Pope Pope's pow'r praise pride prose rhyme round satire sense shade shine sing smile song soul spirit Spleen style sweet Swift taste tear tell thee things thou thought thro toil trembling truth turns Twas verse virtue Whig wind wise write youth
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 259 - Thou, O Christ, art all I want, More than all in thee I find ! Raise the fallen, cheer the faint, Heal the sick, and lead the blind ; Just and holy is thy name, I am all unrighteousness ; False and full of sin I am, Thou art full of truth and grace.
Сторінка 256 - Prince of peace ! Hail, the Sun of righteousness ! Light and life to all He brings, Risen with healing in His wings : Mild He lays His glory by, Born that man no more may die ; Born to raise the sons of earth ; Born to give them second birth.
Сторінка 554 - O' my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn's blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasp'd her to my bosom ! The golden hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my dearie; For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi' mony a vow and lock'd embrace Our parting was fu' tender; And pledging aft to meet again, We tore oursels asunder; But, Oh!
Сторінка 527 - His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare ; Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, He wales a portion with judicious care; And "Let us worship God!" he says, with solemn air. They chant their artless notes in simple guise; They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim : Perhaps "Dundee's" wild warbling measures rise, Or plaintive "Martyrs...
Сторінка 4 - Inspired repulsed battalions to engage, And taught the doubtful battle where to rage. So when an angel by divine command With rising tempests shakes a guilty land, Such as of late o'er pale Britannia past, Calm and serene he drives the furious blast ; And, pleased the Almighty's orders to perform, Rides in the whirlwind, and directs the storm.
Сторінка 283 - 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 529 - Wallace's undaunted heart, Who dared to nobly stem tyrannic pride, Or nobly die, the second glorious part: (The patriot's God, peculiarly Thou art, His friend, inspirer, guardian, and reward!) O never, never Scotia's realm desert; But still the patriot, and the patriot-bard In bright succession raise, her ornament and guard!
Сторінка 375 - Thither no more the peasant shall repair To sweet oblivion of his daily care; No more the farmer's news, the barber's tale; No more the woodman's ballad shall prevail; No more the smith his dusky brow shall clear, Relax his ponderous strength, and lean to hear...
Сторінка 369 - 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...
Сторінка 259 - Plenteous grace with thee is found, Grace to cover all my sin; Let the healing streams abound, Make and keep me pure within. Thou of life the fountain art; Freely let me take of thee; Spring thou up within my heart, Rise to all eternity.