The Works of Thomas Gray, EsqJ. F. Dove, 1827 - Всего страниц: 446 |
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Стр. vi
... Desires him to give his Elegy to Mr. Dodsley to be printed immediately , in order to prevent its publication in a magazine 16. To Dr. WHARTON . Of Madame Maintenon's Character and Letters . His high opinion of M. Racine . Of Bishop ...
... Desires him to give his Elegy to Mr. Dodsley to be printed immediately , in order to prevent its publication in a magazine 16. To Dr. WHARTON . Of Madame Maintenon's Character and Letters . His high opinion of M. Racine . Of Bishop ...
Стр. 15
... desire you will send me soon , and truly and positively , a history † of your own time . This expression prettily distinguishes their studies when out of the public school , which would naturally , at their age , be vague and desultory ...
... desire you will send me soon , and truly and positively , a history † of your own time . This expression prettily distinguishes their studies when out of the public school , which would naturally , at their age , be vague and desultory ...
Стр. 55
... desires ; as for example , to take a walk with you on the banks of the Rhône , and to be climbing up mount Fourviere ; Jam mens prætrepidans avet vagari : Jam læti studio pedes vigescunt . However , so long as I am not deprived of your ...
... desires ; as for example , to take a walk with you on the banks of the Rhône , and to be climbing up mount Fourviere ; Jam mens prætrepidans avet vagari : Jam læti studio pedes vigescunt . However , so long as I am not deprived of your ...
Стр. 59
... desire he would go to Italy , which he has re- solved to do , so that all the scheme of spending the winter in the South of France is laid aside , and we are to pass it in a much finer country . You may imagine I am not sorry to have ...
... desire he would go to Italy , which he has re- solved to do , so that all the scheme of spending the winter in the South of France is laid aside , and we are to pass it in a much finer country . You may imagine I am not sorry to have ...
Стр. 68
... desire , in perfection . We have now been here a week , and shall stay some little time longer . We are at the foot of the Appennine mountains ; it will take up three days to cross them , and then we shall come to Florence , where we ...
... desire , in perfection . We have now been here a week , and shall stay some little time longer . We are at the foot of the Appennine mountains ; it will take up three days to cross them , and then we shall come to Florence , where we ...
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The Works of Thomas Gray: Collated from the Various Editions; With Memoirs ... William Mason,Thomas Gray, Sir Недоступно для просмотра - 2016 |
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Abbéville acquaintance admirable agreeable Agrippina ancient Anicetus appear atque beautiful believe called Cambridge church death Duke Dunciad Elegy eyes Florence Genoa give gothic Grande Chartreuse GRAY TO DR Gray's hæc hand hear heart hill honour hope hunting seat imagine IMITATION insert Italy journey King lady letter lines live Lord Lord Bolingbroke manner Massinissa means melancholy mihi miles mind morning mother mountains Naples nature never night numina o'er occasion palace passed perhaps Peterhouse Petrarch Pindar pleasure poem poet poetry Pope Posidippus quæ quod Radicofani reader rest Rheims river road Rome round scene seems seen Senesino shew side sort spirit stanzas Statius sure Syphax Tacitus taste tell Teverone thing thought Tibullus town Turin verse Walpole WEST WHARTON wish write written
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Стр. 371 - Gainst graver hours, that bring constraint To sweeten liberty: Some bold adventurers disdain The limits of their little reign, And unknown regions dare descry: Still as they run they look behind, They hear a voice in every wind, And snatch a fearful joy.
Стр. 377 - This pencil take' (she said), 'whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year: Thine, too, these golden keys, immortal Boy! This can unlock the gates of joy; Of horror that, and thrilling fears, Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears.
Стр. 398 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech, That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, .And pore upon the brook that babbles by. " Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, Muttering his wayward fancies he would rove; Now drooping, woeful, wan, like one forlorn, Or craz'd with care, or cross'd in hopeless love.
Стр. 118 - I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them...
Стр. 380 - Weave the warp, and weave the woof, The winding-sheet of Edward's race ; Give ample room, and verge enough, The characters of hell to trace...
Стр. 399 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath, and near his favourite tree ; Another came : nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he : The next, with dirges due in sad array Slow through the churchway path we saw him borne, — Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Стр. 373 - And from her own she learn'd to melt at others' woe. Scared at thy frown terrific, fly Self-pleasing Folly's idle brood, Wild Laughter, Noise, and thoughtless Joy, And leave us leisure to be good. Light they disperse, and with them go The summer friend, the flattering foe ; By vain Prosperity received, To her they vow their truth, and are again believed.
Стр. 372 - Th' unfeeling for his own. Yet, ah ! why should they know their fate. Since sorrow never comes too late, And happiness too swiftly flies? Thought would destroy their paradise! No more; — where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.
Стр. 375 - Man's feeble race what ills await ! . Labour, and Penury, the racks of Pain, Disease, and Sorrow's weeping train, And Death, sad refuge from the storms of fate ! The fond complaint, my song, disprove, And justify the laws of Jove.
Стр. 397 - Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear ; Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood ; Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest ; Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood. Th...