The muses' bower, embellished with the beauties of English poetry, Том 3W. Plant Piercy, 1809 |
Из књиге
Резултати 1-5 од 33
Страница 27
... voice , No more the forests ring , or groves rejoice ; Who now shall charm the shades where Cowley strung His living harp , and lofty Denham sung ? But hark ! the groves rejoice , the Forest rings ! Are these reviv'd ? or is it ...
... voice , No more the forests ring , or groves rejoice ; Who now shall charm the shades where Cowley strung His living harp , and lofty Denham sung ? But hark ! the groves rejoice , the Forest rings ! Are these reviv'd ? or is it ...
Страница 47
... voice Of every warbler in the vernal wood . Her garden stretch'd along the river side , High up a sunny bank : on either side , A hedge forbade the vagrant foot ; above , An ancient forest screen'd the green recess . Transplanted here ...
... voice Of every warbler in the vernal wood . Her garden stretch'd along the river side , High up a sunny bank : on either side , A hedge forbade the vagrant foot ; above , An ancient forest screen'd the green recess . Transplanted here ...
Страница 51
... voice of love , Nothing reluctant : might with you have walk'd Whole summer suns away . At even - tide , When heav'n and earth in all their glory shine With the last smiles of the departing sun ; When the sweet breath of Summer feasts ...
... voice of love , Nothing reluctant : might with you have walk'd Whole summer suns away . At even - tide , When heav'n and earth in all their glory shine With the last smiles of the departing sun ; When the sweet breath of Summer feasts ...
Страница 53
... , like a rosy bride Adorn'd on her day , put on her robes , Her beauteous robes of light ; the naiad streams , Sweet as the cadence of a poet's song , Flow'd down the dale ; the voices of the grove BRUCE . ] 53 LOCHLEVEN.
... , like a rosy bride Adorn'd on her day , put on her robes , Her beauteous robes of light ; the naiad streams , Sweet as the cadence of a poet's song , Flow'd down the dale ; the voices of the grove BRUCE . ] 53 LOCHLEVEN.
Страница 54
English poetry. Flow'd down the dale ; the voices of the grove , And every winged warbler of the air , Sung over head ; and there was joy in heav'n . Risen with the dawn , the bride and bridal - maids Stray'd through the woods , and o'er ...
English poetry. Flow'd down the dale ; the voices of the grove , And every winged warbler of the air , Sung over head ; and there was joy in heav'n . Risen with the dawn , the bride and bridal - maids Stray'd through the woods , and o'er ...
Друга издања - Прикажи све
Чести термини и фразе
ancient beauty behold bending beneath bittern blest bliss bloom boast bosom breast breath bright charms cheerful climes clouds Cooper's Hill courser dark death delight earth Ev'n ev'ry fair fate fields fleece flies flocks flow'r flowers forests GEORGIC gloomy grave green Grongar Hill groves hand happy heart heav'n hill hour kings labour lake land lapwing Levina luxury lyre meads midst mighty mind morn mountains Muse Muse's Naiad Nature's ne'er nymph o'er pain peace plain pleas'd pow'r praise prey pride proud rage realms reign rill rise rocks round rude scene seraph shade shine shore silent skies smile song soul sound spread Spring stamp'd streams swain sweet SWEET Auburn swelling tempest thee thine thou thro Tobol toil tow'ring trees trembling Twas vale vallies verdant voice wandering wave wealth wide wild wind Windsor woodlark woods wretch youth
Популарни одломци
Страница 149 - The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, The playful children just let loose from school, The watch-dog's voice that bayed the whispering wind. And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind, These all in sweet confusion sought the shade, And filled each pause the nightingale had made.
Страница 158 - Now lost to all — her friends, her virtue fled — Near her betrayer's door she lays her head, And, pinch'd with cold, and shrinking from the shower, With heavy heart deplores that luckless hour When idly first, ambitious of the town, She left her wheel, and robes of country brown.
Страница 218 - If I am right, Thy grace impart Still in the right to stay ; If I am wrong, oh, teach my heart To find that better way!
Страница 217 - Yet gave me, in this dark estate, To see the good from ill; And, binding nature fast in fate, Left free the human will.
Страница 147 - Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay : Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade ; A breath can make them, as a breath has made ; But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroyed, can never be supplied.
Страница 146 - How often have I blest the coming day, When toil remitting lent its turn to play, And all the village train, from labour free, Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree ; While many a pastime circled in the shade, The young contending as the old surveyed ; And many a gambol frolicked o'er the ground, And sleights of art and feats of strength went round...
Страница 155 - Not so the loss. The man of wealth and pride Takes up a space that many poor supplied — Space for his lake, his park's extended bounds, Space for his horses, equipage, and hounds ; The robe that wraps his limbs in silken sloth, Has robbed the neighbouring fields of half their growth; His seat, where solitary sports are seen, Indignant spurns the cottage from the green...
Страница 140 - Stern o'er each bosom reason holds her state With daring aims irregularly great ; Pride in their port, defiance in their eye, I see the lords of human kind pass by...
Страница 153 - For e'en though vanquish'd, he could argue still ; While words of learned length, and thundering sound, Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around ; And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew That one small head could carry all he knew. But past is all his fame. The very spot Where many a time he triumph'd, is forgot. Near yonder thorn, that lifts its head on high, Where once the sign-post caught the passing eye...
Страница 221 - But wandering oft, with brute unconscious gaze, Man marks not Thee, marks not the mighty hand That, ever busy, wheels the silent spheres ; Works in the secret deep ; shoots steaming thence The fair profusion that o'erspreads the Spring...