Foliorum silvula, selections for translation into Latin and Greek verse, by H.A. HoldenHubert Ashton Holden 1866 |
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... thou hast slain another learned and fair and good as she , Time shall throw a dart at thee . B. JONSON LOVE OUTLIVES ... thou above that tomb ? floatest thou ? I am the image of swift Plato's spirit ascending heaven : Athens does inherit ...
... thou hast slain another learned and fair and good as she , Time shall throw a dart at thee . B. JONSON LOVE OUTLIVES ... thou above that tomb ? floatest thou ? I am the image of swift Plato's spirit ascending heaven : Athens does inherit ...
Сторінка 49
... thou forgive me hell . W. HABINGTON SYMPATHY IN DEJECTION ND wilt thou weep , when I am low ? Aweet lady speak those words again : yet if they grieve thee , say not so— I would not give that bosom pain . My heart is sad , my hopes are ...
... thou forgive me hell . W. HABINGTON SYMPATHY IN DEJECTION ND wilt thou weep , when I am low ? Aweet lady speak those words again : yet if they grieve thee , say not so— I would not give that bosom pain . My heart is sad , my hopes are ...
Сторінка 56
... thou singest of divine . There's a little fair brown nightingale , who sitting in the gateway makes fitter music to our ear , than any song of thine . ' The poet went out weeping - the nightingale ceased chanting ; ' Now wherefore , O thou ...
... thou singest of divine . There's a little fair brown nightingale , who sitting in the gateway makes fitter music to our ear , than any song of thine . ' The poet went out weeping - the nightingale ceased chanting ; ' Now wherefore , O thou ...
Сторінка 57
... thou'rt sweet ; yet find thee such an unthrift of thy sweets , thy favours are but like the wind that kisseth everything it meets . and since thou canst with more than one , thou'rt worthy to be kissed by none . 177 The morning rose ...
... thou'rt sweet ; yet find thee such an unthrift of thy sweets , thy favours are but like the wind that kisseth everything it meets . and since thou canst with more than one , thou'rt worthy to be kissed by none . 177 The morning rose ...
Сторінка 58
... thou hast learned thy lay . One gleam , one gale of western air has hardly brushed thy wing ; yet thou hast given thy welcome fair , good - morrow to the spring ! CHASTISEMENT LYRA APOSTOLICA MORTAL ! if e'er thy spirits faint , by ...
... thou hast learned thy lay . One gleam , one gale of western air has hardly brushed thy wing ; yet thou hast given thy welcome fair , good - morrow to the spring ! CHASTISEMENT LYRA APOSTOLICA MORTAL ! if e'er thy spirits faint , by ...
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Foliorum Silvula, Selections for Translation Into Latin and Greek Verse, by ... Hubert Ashton Holden Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2016 |
Foliorum Silvula, Selections for Translation Into Latin and Greek Verse, by ... Hubert Ashton Holden Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2015 |
Foliorum Silvula, Selections for Translation Into Latin and Greek Verse, by ... Hubert Ashton Holden Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2015 |
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arms beauty beneath birds breast breath bright charms clouds cold dark dead death deep delight doth dream earth Edition eyes face fair fall fear feel fields fire flowers gentle give grace grave green grove hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hills hope hour land leaves light live look LORD mind morn mountain nature never night notes o'er once pain pass past peace plain pleasure rest rise rocks rose round seemed shade shine sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song soon sorrow soul sound spirit spread spring stars stood storm stream sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought trees turn voice wandering waters waves weep wild winds wings woods youth καὶ
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Сторінка 36 - SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love. A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye ! — Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me...
Сторінка 84 - gainst his glory fight, And Time that gave doth now his gift confound. Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth, And delves the parallels in beauty's brow, Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth, And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow : And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand, Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.
Сторінка 351 - The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece! Where burning Sappho loved and sung, Where grew the arts of war and peace, Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung! Eternal summer gilds them yet, But all, except their sun, is set. The...
Сторінка 362 - Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning.
Сторінка 87 - Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee...
Сторінка 54 - 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 189 - Who is Silvia ? what is she, That all our swains commend her ? Holy, fair and wise is she ; The heaven such grace did lend her That she might admired be. Is she kind as she is fair ? for beauty lives with kindness : Love doth to her eyes repair, To help him of his blindness ; And, being help'd, inhabits there. Then to Silvia let us sing, That Silvia is excelling ; She excels each mortal thing Upon the dull earth dwelling ; To her let us garlands bring.
Сторінка 70 - What objects are the fountains of thy happy strain? What fields, or waves, or mountains? what shapes of sky or plain? What love of thine own kind? what ignorance...
Сторінка 402 - Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood In brighter light, and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood? Alas! they all are in their graves, the gentle race of flowers Are lying in their lowly beds, with the fair and good of ours. The rain is falling where they lie, but the cold November rain Calls not from out the gloomy earth the lovely ones again.
Сторінка 34 - The Epitaph Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth A Youth, to Fortune and to Fame unknown; Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth, And Melancholy mark'd him for her own. Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere...