The poetical works of William Collins, with the comm. of Langhorne. To which is prefixed some account of the life of Collins by dr. Johnson1804 |
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Сторінка 22
... youth ! -for she thy love hath won- The tender Zara will be most undone ! Big swell'd my heart , and own'd the powerful maid , When fast she dropt her tears , as thus she said : " Farewell the youth whom sighs could not detain ; " Whom ...
... youth ! -for she thy love hath won- The tender Zara will be most undone ! Big swell'd my heart , and own'd the powerful maid , When fast she dropt her tears , as thus she said : " Farewell the youth whom sighs could not detain ; " Whom ...
Сторінка 23
... youth , like me . ” -O let me safely to the fair return ; Say , with a kiss , she must not , shall not mourn ; O ! let me teach my heart to lose its fears , Recall'd by Wisdom's voice , and Zara's tears . He said , and call'd on heaven ...
... youth , like me . ” -O let me safely to the fair return ; Say , with a kiss , she must not , shall not mourn ; O ! let me teach my heart to lose its fears , Recall'd by Wisdom's voice , and Zara's tears . He said , and call'd on heaven ...
Сторінка 24
... strain , Who led her youth with flocks upon the plain : At morn she came those willing flocks to lead , Where lilies rear them in the watery mead ; Drawn by Rich Wertall RA Page 24 . Engraved by 24 Abra; or, The Georgian Sultana.
... strain , Who led her youth with flocks upon the plain : At morn she came those willing flocks to lead , Where lilies rear them in the watery mead ; Drawn by Rich Wertall RA Page 24 . Engraved by 24 Abra; or, The Georgian Sultana.
Сторінка 25
... youth like royal Abbas mov'd ; " And every Georgian maid like Abra lov'd ! " The royal lover bore her from the plain ; Yet still her crook and bleating flock remain : Oft , as she went , she backward turn'd her view , And bade that ...
... youth like royal Abbas mov'd ; " And every Georgian maid like Abra lov'd ! " The royal lover bore her from the plain ; Yet still her crook and bleating flock remain : Oft , as she went , she backward turn'd her view , And bade that ...
Сторінка 26
... youth like royal Abbas mov'd ; " And every Georgian maid like Abra lov'd ! " Yet , ' midst the blaze of courts , she fix'd her love On the cool fountain , or the shady grove ; Still , with the shepherd's innocence , her mind To the ...
... youth like royal Abbas mov'd ; " And every Georgian maid like Abra lov'd ! " Yet , ' midst the blaze of courts , she fix'd her love On the cool fountain , or the shady grove ; Still , with the shepherd's innocence , her mind To the ...
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The Poetical Works of William Collins, with the Comm. of Langhorne. to Which ... William Collins Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2016 |
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Abra lov'd AGIB allegorical ancient ANTISTROPHE bard beautiful blank verse blast blest boast breathe Brownie charm Circassia Collins CYMBELINE death delight dreary drest Druid dwell E'en epithalamium ev'ry eyes fair fairy Fancy fear flowers fond genius Georgian maid golden hair Greece green grief grove hail hand happy haste haunt hear heard heart Hebrides hour imagery isle John Sharpe luckless lyre lyric magic maid like Abra midst mind moral mountains mourn mov'd murmurs muse myrtles native nature Ne'er numbers Nymph o'er Oriental Eclogues passions pastoral Pity Pity's plain poems poet poet's poetical poetry Polynices rage round royal Abbas rural scene Schiraz sentiment shade shepherds sighs SIR THOMAS HANMER soft song Sophocles sounds springs strain sullen sung swain sweet tears tender thee Theocritus thou thought toil truth vale verse virtue voice of Peace watchet wild wizzard youth εν
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Сторінка 72 - And though sometimes, each dreary pause between, Dejected Pity, at his side, Her soul-subduing voice applied, Yet still he kept his wild unaltered mien, While each strained ball of sight seemed bursting from his head.
Сторінка 71 - tis said, when all were fired, Fill'd with fury, rapt, inspired, From the supporting myrtles round They snatch'd her instruments of sound,' And, as they oft had heard apart Sweet lessons of her forceful art, Each (for madness ruled the hour) Would prove his own expressive power, FIRST Fear his hand, its skill to try, Amid the chords bewilder'd laid, And back recoil'd, he knew not why, E'en at the sound himself had made.
Сторінка 46 - 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.
Сторінка 70 - When Music, heavenly maid, was young, While yet in early Greece she sung, The Passions oft, to hear her shell, Thronged around her magic cell...
Сторінка 85 - No wither'd witch shall here be seen, No goblins lead their nightly crew ; The female fays shall haunt the green, And dress thy grave with pearly dew. The redbreast oft at evening hours Shall kindly lend his little aid, With hoary moss and gather'd flowers, To deck the ground where thou art laid.
Сторінка 138 - Who slept in buds the day, And many a nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge, And sheds the freshening dew, and lovelier still, The pensive pleasures sweet Prepare thy shadowy car.
Сторінка 45 - While on its rich ambitious head, An Eden, like his own, lies spread. I view that oak, the fancied glades among, By which as Milton lay, his evening ear, From many a cloud that dropp'd ethereal dew, Nigh spher'd in heaven, its native strains could hear...
Сторінка 8 - That this man, wise and virtuous as he was, passed always unentangled through the snares of life, it would be prejudice and temerity to affirm; but it may be said that at least he preserved the source of action unpolluted, that his principles were never shaken, that his distinctions of right and wrong were never confounded, and that his faults had nothing of malignity or design, but proceeded from some unexpected pressure, or casual temptation.
Сторінка 142 - twas wild. But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair, What was thy delighted measure ! Still it whispered promised pleasure, And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail...
Сторінка 22 - What if the lion in his rage I meet ! Oft in the dust I view his printed feet : And fearful ! oft, when day's declining light Yields her pale empire to the mourner night, By hunger...