New Elegant Extracts: A Unique Selection from the Most Eminent British Poets and Poetical Translators, Том 3C. and C. Whittingham, 1823 |
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Стр. 3
... soon lamented die . For them the viewless forms of air obey ; Their bidding heed , and at their beck repair : They know what spirit brews the stormful day , A summer hat , built in the high part of the mountains , to tend their flocks ...
... soon lamented die . For them the viewless forms of air obey ; Their bidding heed , and at their beck repair : They know what spirit brews the stormful day , A summer hat , built in the high part of the mountains , to tend their flocks ...
Стр. 18
... soon , ' I said , ' shall Wisdom teach her lore In the low huts of them that toil and groan ! And , conquering by her happiness alone , Shall France compel the nations to be free , Till Love and Joy look round , and call the earth their ...
... soon , ' I said , ' shall Wisdom teach her lore In the low huts of them that toil and groan ! And , conquering by her happiness alone , Shall France compel the nations to be free , Till Love and Joy look round , and call the earth their ...
Стр. 21
... soon ! In vain , to break our firm array , Thy brazen drums hoarse discord bray : Those sounds our rising fury fan : English Richard in the van , On to victory we go , A vaunting infidel the foe . ' Blondel led the tuneful band , And ...
... soon ! In vain , to break our firm array , Thy brazen drums hoarse discord bray : Those sounds our rising fury fan : English Richard in the van , On to victory we go , A vaunting infidel the foe . ' Blondel led the tuneful band , And ...
Стр. 23
... Soon on thy battlements divine Shall wave the badge of Constantine . Ye Barons , to the sun unfold Our Cross with crimson wove and gold ! ' T. WARTON . A NAVAL ODE . YE mariners of England ! That guard our native seas : Whose flag has ...
... Soon on thy battlements divine Shall wave the badge of Constantine . Ye Barons , to the sun unfold Our Cross with crimson wove and gold ! ' T. WARTON . A NAVAL ODE . YE mariners of England ! That guard our native seas : Whose flag has ...
Стр. 34
... the tumult . At his first appearance he was regarded with veneration , which was soon exchanged for rage , to the effects whereof he fell a victim . Thick the darts , the arrows fly ; Hapless monarch 34 P. V. ELEGANT EXTRACTS .
... the tumult . At his first appearance he was regarded with veneration , which was soon exchanged for rage , to the effects whereof he fell a victim . Thick the darts , the arrows fly ; Hapless monarch 34 P. V. ELEGANT EXTRACTS .
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Anacreon ANNA SEWARD beams beauty beneath blast bless'd bliss bloom blush bosom bowers breast breath bright brow CHARLOTTE SMITH charms cheek cheer courser crown'd Cumnor dark dear death deep delight dost doth dreams earth fair fairy Fancy fire flame flowers fond gale gentle Glastonbury Abbey gloom glory glowing golden grace green groves hail hast hath hear heart heaven hill Hope hour Ianthe Inchcape Rock King King Arthur light lonely lyre maid Motezuma mourn Muse Musidora Naiads Nature's night numbers nymph o'er Ovid pale Petrarch plain R. A. DAVENPORT rage rapture rills round scenes shade shed shine sighs silent sing sleep smile soft song soothe sorrow soul sound Spring storm stranger band stream sweet swell tears tempests thee thine thou train vale vermil voice wake wave weep wild wind wing youth
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Стр. 313 - Coral is far more red than her lips' red: If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound: I grant I never saw a goddess go; My mistress, when...
Стр. 311 - Since there's no help, come, let us kiss and part! Nay, I have done. You get no more of me! And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free. Shake hands for ever! Cancel all our vows! And when we meet at any time again, Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain.
Стр. 325 - Purification in the old law did save, And such, as yet once more I trust to have Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint, Came vested all in white, pure as her mind. Her face was...
Стр. 328 - Phoebus lifts his golden fire: The birds in vain their amorous descant join, Or cheerful fields resume their green attire: These ears alas! for other notes repine; A different object do these eyes require; My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine; And in my breast the imperfect joys expire; Yet Morning smiles the busy race to cheer, And new-born pleasure brings to happier men; The fields to all their wonted tribute bear; To warm their little loves the birds complain. I fruitless mourn to him that...
Стр. 312 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste...
Стр. 311 - ... no help, come let us kiss and part, — Nay I have done, you get no more of me; And I am glad, yea glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free; Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows, And when we meet at any time again, Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain. Now at the last gasp of love's latest breath, When his pulse failing, passion speechless lies, When faith is kneeling by his bed of death, And innocence is closing up his eyes, —...
Стр. 328 - In vain to me the smiling mornings shine, And reddening Phoebus lifts his golden fire : The birds in vain their amorous descant join, Or cheerful fields resume their green attire. These ears, alas ! for other notes repine ; A different object do these eyes require ; My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine ; And in my breast the imperfect joys expire...
Стр. 16 - Woods ! that listen to the night-birds singing, Midway the smooth and perilous slope reclined, Save when your own imperious branches swinging, Have made a solemn music of the wind ! Where, like a man beloved of God, Through glooms, which never woodman trod...
Стр. 74 - Now air is hushed, save where the weak-eyed bat, With short, shrill shriek, flits by on leathern wing; Or where the beetle winds His small but sullen horn...
Стр. 306 - The turtle to her mate hath told her tale. Summer is come, for every spray now springs: The hart hath hung his old head on the pale; The buck in brake his winter coat he flings ; The fishes flete with new repaired scale.