Odes, sonnets and epigramsHenry Van Dyke, Hardin Craig Doubleday, Page, 1905 |
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Стр. 34
... Sleep , when it is tyme to sleepe , May poure his limbs forth on your pleasant playne ; The whiles an hundred little wingèd loves , Like divers - fethered doves , Shall fly and flutter round about your bed , And in the secret darke ...
... Sleep , when it is tyme to sleepe , May poure his limbs forth on your pleasant playne ; The whiles an hundred little wingèd loves , Like divers - fethered doves , Shall fly and flutter round about your bed , And in the secret darke ...
Стр. 48
... sleep , The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through the deep . With such a horrid clang As on mount Sinai rang While the red fire and smoldering clouds outbrake : 156 The aged Earth aghast With terror of that blast Shall 48 Little ...
... sleep , The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through the deep . With such a horrid clang As on mount Sinai rang While the red fire and smoldering clouds outbrake : 156 The aged Earth aghast With terror of that blast Shall 48 Little ...
Стр. 52
... sleeping Lord with hand - maid lamp attending : And all about the courtly stable Bright - harness'd angels sit in order serviceable . 1629. 1645 . 236 244 John Milton . ON TIME FLY envious Time , till thou run out thy race , Call on the ...
... sleeping Lord with hand - maid lamp attending : And all about the courtly stable Bright - harness'd angels sit in order serviceable . 1629. 1645 . 236 244 John Milton . ON TIME FLY envious Time , till thou run out thy race , Call on the ...
Стр. 60
... Sleep , sleep again , my Lyre ! For thou canst never tell my humble tale In sounds that will prevail , Nor gentle thoughts in her inspire ; All thy vain mirth lay by , Bid thy strings silent lie , Sleep , sleep again , my Lyre , and let ...
... Sleep , sleep again , my Lyre ! For thou canst never tell my humble tale In sounds that will prevail , Nor gentle thoughts in her inspire ; All thy vain mirth lay by , Bid thy strings silent lie , Sleep , sleep again , my Lyre , and let ...
Стр. 68
... sleep asunder , 122 And rouse him , like a rattling peal of thunder . Hark , hark , the horrid sound Has raised up his head ; As awaked from the dead , And , amazed he stares around . Revenge ! revenge ! Timotheus cries , See the furies ...
... sleep asunder , 122 And rouse him , like a rattling peal of thunder . Hark , hark , the horrid sound Has raised up his head ; As awaked from the dead , And , amazed he stares around . Revenge ! revenge ! Timotheus cries , See the furies ...
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beauty behold Ben Jonson birds bliss breath bright Brydale day clouds crown dark dead dear death deep delight didst dost doth dream earth eccho ring Edmund Spenser end my Song eternal eyes fade fair Fancy fayre fear flowers gaze glory golden goodly hand happy hast hath hear heart heaven heavenly holy honour hour John Dryden John Keats John Milton kiss leaves light live look loud love thee love's lyke lyre mighty moon morn mortal never night numbers o'er pain passion peace Percy Bysshe Shelley Pindaric pleasure poets praise Ralph Waldo Emerson Richard Henry Stoddard round runne softly Samuel Taylor Coleridge seem'd shadow shine sigh sight silent sing sleep soft solemn sonnet soul sound spirit stars Sweete Themmes tears theyr thine things thou art thought trembling unto voice Walter Savage Landor William Wordsworth winds wings woods
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Стр. 39 - 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. 135 - Forlorn! the very word is like a bell To toll me back from thee to my sole self! Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf. Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hillside; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — Do I wake or sleep?
Стр. 132 - 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. 88 - 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. 91 - On every side, In a thousand valleys far and wide, Fresh flowers; while the sun shines warm, And the Babe leaps up on his Mother's arm: — I hear, I hear, with joy I hear!
Стр. 214 - 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. 184 - 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. 131 - 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...
Стр. 50 - And sullen Moloch, fled, Hath left in shadows dread His burning idol all of blackest hue ; In vain with cymbals' ring They call the grisly king, In dismal dance about the furnace blue ; The brutish gods of Nile as fast, Isis, and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste...
Стр. 227 - BRIGHT star ! would I were steadfast as thou art— Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night, And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like Nature's patient sleepless Eremite, The moving waters at their priestlike task Of pure ablution round earth's human shores, Or gazing on the new soft fallen mask Of snow upon the mountains and the moors.