The Works of Alexander Pope, Esq. ...: Translations and imitationsJ. and P. Knapton, 1751 |
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Страница 19
... o'er the main , Nor let a Lover's death the guiltless flood profane ! On Phoebus ' fhrine my harp I'll then beftow , And this Infcription fhall be plac'd below . " Here the who fung , to him that did inspirê , " Sappho to Phoebus ...
... o'er the main , Nor let a Lover's death the guiltless flood profane ! On Phoebus ' fhrine my harp I'll then beftow , And this Infcription fhall be plac'd below . " Here the who fung , to him that did inspirê , " Sappho to Phoebus ...
Страница 31
... o'er yon rocks reclin'd Wave high , and murmur to the hollow wind , The wand'ring ftreams that shine between the hills , The grots that echo to the tinkling rills , The dying gales that pant upon the trees , The lakes that quiver to the ...
... o'er yon rocks reclin'd Wave high , and murmur to the hollow wind , The wand'ring ftreams that shine between the hills , The grots that echo to the tinkling rills , The dying gales that pant upon the trees , The lakes that quiver to the ...
Страница 34
... o'er all thy charms , And round thy phantom glue my clasping arms . I wake : -no more I hear , no more I view , The phantom flies me , as unkind as you . I call aloud ; it hears not what I fay : 235 I ftretch my empty arms ; it glides ...
... o'er all thy charms , And round thy phantom glue my clasping arms . I wake : -no more I hear , no more I view , The phantom flies me , as unkind as you . I call aloud ; it hears not what I fay : 235 I ftretch my empty arms ; it glides ...
Страница 38
... o'er ; And ev❜n my Abelard be lov'd no morẹ . O Death all - eloquent ! you only prove 330 335 What dust we doat on , when ' tis man we love , Then too , when fate fhall thy fair frame destroy , ( That cause of all my guilt , and all my ...
... o'er ; And ev❜n my Abelard be lov'd no morẹ . O Death all - eloquent ! you only prove 330 335 What dust we doat on , when ' tis man we love , Then too , when fate fhall thy fair frame destroy , ( That cause of all my guilt , and all my ...
Страница 39
Alexander Pope. Then , ages hence , when all my woes are o'er , When this rebellious heart shall beat no more ; If ever chance two wand'ring lovers brings To Paraclete's white walls and filver springs , O'er the pale marble fhall they ...
Alexander Pope. Then , ages hence , when all my woes are o'er , When this rebellious heart shall beat no more ; If ever chance two wand'ring lovers brings To Paraclete's white walls and filver springs , O'er the pale marble fhall they ...
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Страница 30 - With other beauties charm my partial eyes, Full in my view set all the bright abode, And make my soul quit Abelard for God.
Страница 31 - Long-sounding aisles, and intermingled graves, Black Melancholy sits, and round her throws A death-like silence., and a dread repose: Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene, Shades ev'ry flow'r, and darkens ev'ry green, Deepens the murmur of the falling floods, And breathes a browner horror on the woods.
Страница 19 - Phaon's hate, And hope from seas and rocks a milder fate. Ye gentle gales, beneath my body blow, And softly lay me on the waves below!
Страница 29 - ... on earth there be), And once the lot of Abelard and me. Alas, how chang'd ! what...
Страница 26 - Yet write, oh write me all, that I may join Griefs to thy griefs, and echo sighs to thine. Nor foes nor fortune take this power away; And is my Abelard less kind than they?
Страница 36 - Ah come not, write not, think not once of me, Nor share one pang of all I felt for thee. Thy oaths I quit, thy memory resign, Forget, renounce me, hate whate'er was mine.
Страница 39 - When this rebellious heart shall beat no more; If ever chance two wand'ring lovers brings To Paraclete's white walls and silver springs, O'er the pale marble shall they join their heads, And drink the falling tears each other sheds, 350 Then sadly say, with mutual pity mov'd, "Oh may we never love as these have lov'd!
Страница 29 - Ev'n thought meets thought, ere from the lips it part, And each warm wish springs mutual from the heart. This sure is bliss (if bliss on earth there be) And once the lot of Abelard and me.
Страница 26 - Nor prayers nor fasts its stubborn pulse restrain, Nor tears for ages taught to flow in vain. Soon as thy letters trembling I unclose, That well-known name awakens all my woes.
Страница 31 - The darksome pines, that o'er yon rocks reclin'd, Wave high, and murmur to the hollow wind, The wandering streams that shine between the hills, The grots that echo to the tinkling rills, The dying gales that pant upon the trees, The lakes that quiver to the curling breeze...