Hausschatz englischer Poesie: Auswahl aus den Werken der bedeutendsten englischen Dichter von Chaucer bis auf die neueste Zeit, in chronologischer Ordnung begleitet von biographischen und literarischen Einleitungen. Ein Handbuch der englischen Poesie und igrer GeschichteH. Costenoble, 1852 - Всего страниц: 399 |
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Стр. xxvi
... hath sorrow found Flowers The Death of the Warrior King 147 Youth and Age • If thou hast lost a friend Swift , Jonathan 280 geb. 1667 , gest . 1744 On the Death of Dr. Swift 282 An Elegy on the Death of Demar · • geb. 1785 . From Anster ...
... hath sorrow found Flowers The Death of the Warrior King 147 Youth and Age • If thou hast lost a friend Swift , Jonathan 280 geb. 1667 , gest . 1744 On the Death of Dr. Swift 282 An Elegy on the Death of Demar · • geb. 1785 . From Anster ...
Стр. 3
... hath his bow forgott , Although my lute and I have done . Vengeance shall fall on thy disdaine That makest but game of earnest payne , Think not alone under the sunn , Unquit to cause thy lovers playne , Although my lute and I have done ...
... hath his bow forgott , Although my lute and I have done . Vengeance shall fall on thy disdaine That makest but game of earnest payne , Think not alone under the sunn , Unquit to cause thy lovers playne , Although my lute and I have done ...
Стр. 5
... hath cladde the hyll , and eke the Description of the restlesse state of a Lover with sute to his Lady , to rue on ... hath a troth as just As had Penelope the fayre ; For what she sayeth ye may it trust , As it by wrytyng sealed were ...
... hath cladde the hyll , and eke the Description of the restlesse state of a Lover with sute to his Lady , to rue on ... hath a troth as just As had Penelope the fayre ; For what she sayeth ye may it trust , As it by wrytyng sealed were ...
Стр. 6
... hath sowen , Her beauty hath the fruytes opprest , Ere that the buddes were spronge and blowne . And when myne eyen dyd still pursue , The flying chase of theyre request ; Theyre greedy looks dyd oft renew , The hydden wounde within my ...
... hath sowen , Her beauty hath the fruytes opprest , Ere that the buddes were spronge and blowne . And when myne eyen dyd still pursue , The flying chase of theyre request ; Theyre greedy looks dyd oft renew , The hydden wounde within my ...
Стр. 11
... hath ravish'd me . Then gentle friends aid me in this attempt ; When all is done , Divinity is best . Jerome's bible , Faustus : view it well . Stipendium peccati mors est : ha ! Sti- And I that have with subtil syllogisms pendium , etc ...
... hath ravish'd me . Then gentle friends aid me in this attempt ; When all is done , Divinity is best . Jerome's bible , Faustus : view it well . Stipendium peccati mors est : ha ! Sti- And I that have with subtil syllogisms pendium , etc ...
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Allan Cunningham beauty beneath bosom breast breath bright brow charms cheek clouds Corb dead dear death delight Dichter doth dream durch earth Edinburg englischen erhielt erschienen eyes fair Faustus fear flowers frae Francis Beaumont geboren Gedichte Gefühl gentle gest glory grace grave green grief Grongar Hill hand happy hast hath hear heart heaven hour Jahre Kilmeny Leben lebte Leistungen light live London look Lord maid morn Muse ne'er never night nymph o'er pain pale pleasure Poesie Poesieen poetischen Prosaist rose round seine seinen shade sigh sind sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul später spirit spring star starb stream studirte sunne sweet tears tell thee thine thou art thought trat Twas unto viele ward wave weep Werke wieder wild wind wings wurde wyllowe youth Zeit zuerst
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Стр. 283 - Ode to a 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. 283 - Away! away! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee!
Стр. 283 - As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu ! adieu ! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; 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. 285 - Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers...
Стр. 87 - Go, lovely Rose ! Tell her, that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired: Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die ! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee...
Стр. 251 - HAIL to thee, blithe spirit ! Bird thou never wert, That from heaven, or near it, Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art. Higher still and higher From the earth thou springest Like a cloud of fire; The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest. In the golden lightning Of the sunken sun, O'er which clouds are brightning, Thou dost float and run; Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun.
Стр. 200 - Solitude ! where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face ? Better dwell in the midst of alarms, Than reign in this horrible place. 1 am out of humanity's reach, I must finish my journey alone ; Never hear the sweet music of speech, — I start at the sound of my own. The beasts that roam over the plain My form with indifference see ; They are so unacquainted with man, Their tameness is shocking to me.
Стр. 126 - IT must be so — Plato, thou reason'st well ! — Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, This longing after immortality ? Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror, Of falling into nought ? why shrinks the soul Back on herself, and startles at destruction ? 'Tis the divinity that stirs within us ; 'Tis heaven itself, that points out an hereafter, And intimates eternity to man.
Стр. 320 - Ye Mariners of England ! That guard our native seas, — Whose flag has braved a thousand years The battle and the breeze, — Your glorious standard launch again, To match another foe ; And sweep through the deep While the stormy winds do blow...
Стр. 189 - To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in Heaven. As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.