The Works of the English Poets, from Chaucer to Cowper;: Shakspeare, Davies, Donne, Hall, Stirling, Jonson, Corbet, Carew, DrummondSamuel Johnson J. Johnson; J. Nichols and son; R. Baldwin; F. and C. Rivington; W. Otridge and Son; Leigh and Sotheby; R. Faulder and Son; G. Nicol and Son; T. Payne; G. Robinson; Wilkie and Robinson; C. Davies; T. Egerton; Scatcherd and Letterman; J. Walker; Vernor, Hood, and Sharpe; R. Lea; J. Nunn; Lackington, Allen, and Company; J. Stockdale; Cuthell and Martin; Clarke and Sons; J. White and Company; Longman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme; Cadell and Davies; J. Barker; John Richardson; J.M. Richardson; J. Carpenter; B. Crosby; E. Jeffery; J. Murray; W. Miller; J. and A. Arch; Black, Parry, and Kingsbury; J. Booker; S. Bagster; J. Harding; J. Mackinlay; J. Hatchard; R.H. Evans; Matthews and Leigh; J. Mawman; J. Booth; J. Asperne; P. and W. Wynne; and W. Grace, Deighton and Son at Cambridge; and Wilson and Son at York, 1810 |
З цієї книги
Результати 1-5 із 100
Сторінка 20
... rage : So of concealed sorrow may be said ; Free vent of words love's fire doth assuage ; But when the heart's attorney once is mute The client breaks , as desperate in his suit . ! He sees her coming , and begins to glow , ( Even as a ...
... rage : So of concealed sorrow may be said ; Free vent of words love's fire doth assuage ; But when the heart's attorney once is mute The client breaks , as desperate in his suit . ! He sees her coming , and begins to glow , ( Even as a ...
Сторінка 29
... rage ; Honour for wealth ; and oft that wealth doth cost The death of all , and all together lost . So that in vent'ring ill , we leave to be The things we are , for that which we expect ; And this ambitious foul infirmity , In having ...
... rage ; Honour for wealth ; and oft that wealth doth cost The death of all , and all together lost . So that in vent'ring ill , we leave to be The things we are , for that which we expect ; And this ambitious foul infirmity , In having ...
Сторінка 31
... rage of lust by gazing qualified ; Slack'd , not suppress'd ; for standing by her side , His eye , which late this mutiny restrains , Unto a greater uproar tempts his veins : And they , like straggling slaves for pillage fighting ...
... rage of lust by gazing qualified ; Slack'd , not suppress'd ; for standing by her side , His eye , which late this mutiny restrains , Unto a greater uproar tempts his veins : And they , like straggling slaves for pillage fighting ...
Сторінка 39
... rage such signs of rage they bear , As , but for loss of Nestor's golden words , It seem'd they would debate with angry swords . For much imaginary work was there ; Conceit deceitful , so compact , so kind , That for Achilles ' image ...
... rage such signs of rage they bear , As , but for loss of Nestor's golden words , It seem'd they would debate with angry swords . For much imaginary work was there ; Conceit deceitful , so compact , so kind , That for Achilles ' image ...
Сторінка 41
... rage sent out , recall'd in rage , being past : Even so his sighs , his sorrows , make a saw , To push grief on , and back the same grief draw , Which speechless woe of his , poor she attendeth , And his untimely frenzy thus awaketh ...
... rage sent out , recall'd in rage , being past : Even so his sighs , his sorrows , make a saw , To push grief on , and back the same grief draw , Which speechless woe of his , poor she attendeth , And his untimely frenzy thus awaketh ...
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Загальні терміни та фрази
angels Antinous bear beasts beauty BEN JONSON bloud body breath brest COUNTESS OF BEDFORD court dance dead dear death delight disdaine Donne dost doth Earth errour ev'ry eyes face fair falne false fame fear fire foes foul give glory God's grace grief grone hand hate hath haue hear heart Heaven Hell honour JOHN DONNE king kiss light live look Lord loue lov'd love's Lucrece lust mind Muse never night nought once pain pleasure poison'd poor pow'r praise prince quoth rage SATIRE SATIRE IV SATIRE VII scape scorn seem'd sense Shakspeare shalt shame sighs sight sinne sonne SONNET soul sprite straight strange Sunne sweet tears thee thence thine things thou art thou hast thought thyself tongue true truth twixt unto virtue weep Whil'st wilt wind wretched