Odes, sonnets and epigramsHenry Van Dyke, Hardin Craig Doubleday, Page, 1907 |
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Стр. 6
... pure odes in this collection . SONNETS . An arrangement by authors shows of itself all that is needful as regards the history of the sonnet in English . To the popular mind the great divisions appear with the names of Shakespeare , 6 ...
... pure odes in this collection . SONNETS . An arrangement by authors shows of itself all that is needful as regards the history of the sonnet in English . To the popular mind the great divisions appear with the names of Shakespeare , 6 ...
Стр. 29
... pure snow , with goodly vermill stayne Like crimsin dyde in grayne : That even th ' Angels , which continually About the sacred Altare doe remaine , Forget their service and about her fly , 222 Ofte peeping in her face , that seems more ...
... pure snow , with goodly vermill stayne Like crimsin dyde in grayne : That even th ' Angels , which continually About the sacred Altare doe remaine , Forget their service and about her fly , 222 Ofte peeping in her face , that seems more ...
Стр. 53
... pure content , Aye sung before the sapphire - colour'd throne To Him that sits thereon With saintly shout and solemn jubilee , Where the bright Seraphim in burning row Their loud up - lifted angel trumpets blow ; And the Cherubic host ...
... pure content , Aye sung before the sapphire - colour'd throne To Him that sits thereon With saintly shout and solemn jubilee , Where the bright Seraphim in burning row Their loud up - lifted angel trumpets blow ; And the Cherubic host ...
Стр. 74
... pure , the slumbers light , That fly th ' approach of morn . Alas , regardless of their doom , The little victims play ! No sense have they of ills to come , Nor care beyond to - day ; Yet see how all around ' em wait The Ministers of ...
... pure , the slumbers light , That fly th ' approach of morn . Alas , regardless of their doom , The little victims play ! No sense have they of ills to come , Nor care beyond to - day ; Yet see how all around ' em wait The Ministers of ...
Стр. 105
... cloud Enveloping the Earth- And from the soul itself must there be sent A sweet and potent voice , of its own birth , Of all sweet sounds the life and element ! 58 O pure of heart ! thou need'st not ask of 105 Dejection : An Ode.
... cloud Enveloping the Earth- And from the soul itself must there be sent A sweet and potent voice , of its own birth , Of all sweet sounds the life and element ! 58 O pure of heart ! thou need'st not ask of 105 Dejection : An Ode.
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Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
Abraham Cowley beauty behold Ben Jonson beneath birds bliss brave breast breath bright clouds crown dark dead dear death deep delight didst dost doth dream earth eccho ring eternal eyes fair Fancy fayre fear flowers gaze glory golden goodly hand happy hast hath hear heard heart heaven heavenly holy honour hope hour John Dryden John Keats John Milton kiss leave light live loud love's lyre mighty moon morn mortal Muse never night numbers o'er pain passion peace Percy Bysshe Shelley Pindaric pleasure poets praise Ralph Waldo Emerson round Samuel Taylor Coleridge shadows silent sing sleep smile soft solemn sonnet soul sound spirit spring stars sung tears thee theyr thine things Thomas Gray thou art thought throne Timotheus trembling unto voice Walter Savage Landor waves wild William Wordsworth winds wings woods youth ΙΟ
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Стр. 129 - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan...
Стр. 35 - A lily of a day Is fairer far, in May, Although it fall and die that night; It was the plant and flower of light. In small proportions we just beauties see; And in short measures life may perfect be.
Стр. 128 - Nightingale MY HEART aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk...
Стр. 122 - What thou art, we know not ; What is most like thee ? From rainbow clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see, As from thy presence showers a rain of melody. Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not.
Стр. 84 - Where low-browed baseness wafts perfume to pride. No! men, high-minded men, With powers as far above dull brutes endued In forest, brake, or den, As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude ; Men, who their duties know, But know their rights, and, knowing, dare maintain, Prevent the long-aimed blow, And crush the tyrant while they rend the chain : These constitute a State, And sovereign Law, that State's collected will O'er thrones and globes elate, Sits Empress, crowning good, repressing ill.
Стр. 90 - Delight and liberty, the simple creed Of Childhood, whether busy or at rest, With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast:— Not for these I raise The song of thanks and praise; But for those obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things, Fallings from us, vanishings; Blank misgivings of a Creature Moving about in worlds not realised, High instincts before which our mortal Nature Did tremble like a guilty Thing surprised...
Стр. 210 - Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not.
Стр. 180 - Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date...
Стр. 188 - When in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rhyme, In praise of ladies dead, and lovely knights ; Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best, Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, I see their antique pen would have express'd Even such a beauty as you master now.
Стр. 127 - The impulse of thy strength, only less free Than thou, O uncontrollable! If even I were as in my boyhood, and could be The comrade of thy wanderings...