The muses' bower, embellished with the beauties of English poetry, Том 3W. Plant Piercy, 1809 |
Результаты поиска по книге
Результаты 1 – 5 из 24
Стр. 68
... rude mountain's barren breast he rose , In Po's broad wave now hurries to be lost . His shores , neat huts and verdant pastures fill , And hills , where woods of Pine the storm defy ; While , scorning vegetation , higher still Rise the ...
... rude mountain's barren breast he rose , In Po's broad wave now hurries to be lost . His shores , neat huts and verdant pastures fill , And hills , where woods of Pine the storm defy ; While , scorning vegetation , higher still Rise the ...
Стр. 69
... rude paths be coldly trac❜d , Let not these wilds with listless step be trod , Here Fragrance scorns not to perfume the waste , Here Charity uplifts the mind to God . His humble board the holy man prepares , And simple food , and ...
... rude paths be coldly trac❜d , Let not these wilds with listless step be trod , Here Fragrance scorns not to perfume the waste , Here Charity uplifts the mind to God . His humble board the holy man prepares , And simple food , and ...
Стр. 70
... rude confusion rose ; At length I paus'd above a fertile plain , That promis'd shelter , and foretold repose . Fair runs the streamlet o'er the pasture green , Its margin gay , with flocks and cattle spread ; Embowering trees the ...
... rude confusion rose ; At length I paus'd above a fertile plain , That promis'd shelter , and foretold repose . Fair runs the streamlet o'er the pasture green , Its margin gay , with flocks and cattle spread ; Embowering trees the ...
Стр. 73
... rude wind through rustling osiers blows ; While all his wond'ring nymphs around thee throng , To hear the syrens warble in thy song . But I , who ne'er was blest by fortune's hand , Nor brighten'd ploughshares in paternal land , Long in ...
... rude wind through rustling osiers blows ; While all his wond'ring nymphs around thee throng , To hear the syrens warble in thy song . But I , who ne'er was blest by fortune's hand , Nor brighten'd ploughshares in paternal land , Long in ...
Стр. 77
... rude gale disturbs the sleeping trees , Nor aspen leaves confess the gentlest breeze ; Engag'd in thought , to Neptune's bounds I stray , To take my farewell of the parting day : Far in the deep the sun his glory hides , A streak of ...
... rude gale disturbs the sleeping trees , Nor aspen leaves confess the gentlest breeze ; Engag'd in thought , to Neptune's bounds I stray , To take my farewell of the parting day : Far in the deep the sun his glory hides , A streak of ...
Другие издания - Просмотреть все
The muses' bower, embellished with the beauties of English poetry, Том 3 English poetry Полный просмотр - 1809 |
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
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
Популярные отрывки
Стр. 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.
Стр. 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.
Стр. 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!
Стр. 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.
Стр. 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.
Стр. 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...
Стр. 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...
Стр. 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...
Стр. 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...
Стр. 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...