The Poetical Works of Thomas GrayFrederick Warne, 1859 - 124 стор. |
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Сторінка 8
... soul they seem to soothe , And , redolent of joy and youth , To breathe a second spring . Say , father Thames , for thou hast seen Full many a sprightly race Disporting on thy margent green , The paths of pleasure trace ; Who foremost ...
... soul they seem to soothe , And , redolent of joy and youth , To breathe a second spring . Say , father Thames , for thou hast seen Full many a sprightly race Disporting on thy margent green , The paths of pleasure trace ; Who foremost ...
Сторінка 11
... soul with icy hand , And slow - consuming Age . To each his suff'rings : all are men , Condemn'd alike to groan ; The tender for another's pain , Th ' unfeeling for his own . Yet , ah ! why should they know their fate , Since sorrow ...
... soul with icy hand , And slow - consuming Age . To each his suff'rings : all are men , Condemn'd alike to groan ; The tender for another's pain , Th ' unfeeling for his own . Yet , ah ! why should they know their fate , Since sorrow ...
Сторінка 16
... soul , Parent of sweet and solemn - breathing airs , Enchanting shell ! the sullen Cares And frantic Passions hear thy soft control . On Thracia's hills the Lord of War Has curb'd the fury of his car , And dropt his thirsty lance at thy ...
... soul , Parent of sweet and solemn - breathing airs , Enchanting shell ! the sullen Cares And frantic Passions hear thy soft control . On Thracia's hills the Lord of War Has curb'd the fury of his car , And dropt his thirsty lance at thy ...
Сторінка 21
... soul from nightly fears , From Cambria's curse , from Cambria's tears ! " Such were the sounds that o'er the crested pride Of the first Edward scatter'd wild dismay , As down the steep of Snowdon's shaggy side He wound with toilsome ...
... soul from nightly fears , From Cambria's curse , from Cambria's tears ! " Such were the sounds that o'er the crested pride Of the first Edward scatter'd wild dismay , As down the steep of Snowdon's shaggy side He wound with toilsome ...
Сторінка 27
... glory , spare my aching sight ! Ye unborn ages , crowd not on my soul ! No more our long - lost Arthur we bewail . All hail , ye genuine kings , Britannia's issue , hail ! III . 2 . " Girt with many a baron The Bard . 27.
... glory , spare my aching sight ! Ye unborn ages , crowd not on my soul ! No more our long - lost Arthur we bewail . All hail , ye genuine kings , Britannia's issue , hail ! III . 2 . " Girt with many a baron The Bard . 27.
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Agrippina appear arms Bards battle beneath bounds breath close College course danger death deep died distant divine dread Earl earth Edward eyes face fame fate fears fields fire flame flood flows force France gave gives golden grace Gray half hand head hear heart heav'n Henry honour hour Italy kind King land leave light living Lord means morn mother move Muse night o'er Odin pleasure poem poet pride PROPHETESS race raise reign repose rise rose round seen shade shore sight skies smile soft soon soul speed spirit spring stand steps stream sweet tear tell thee thou thought trembling vale verse voice warm waves weep whence winds wings written youth