Specimens of English SonnetsW. Pickering, 1833 - Всего страниц: 224 |
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Стр. 6
... eyes Can judge of love , thou feel'st a lover's case ; I read it in thy looks , thy languish'd grace To me , that feel the like , thy state descries . Then , even of fellowship , O Moon , tell me , Is constant love deem'd there but want ...
... eyes Can judge of love , thou feel'st a lover's case ; I read it in thy looks , thy languish'd grace To me , that feel the like , thy state descries . Then , even of fellowship , O Moon , tell me , Is constant love deem'd there but want ...
Стр. 10
... eye , Let me no steps but of lost labour trace ; Let all the earth with scorn recount my case ; But do not will me from my love to fly . I do not envy Aristotle's wit , Nor do aspire to Cæsar's bleeding fame ; Nor ought do care though ...
... eye , Let me no steps but of lost labour trace ; Let all the earth with scorn recount my case ; But do not will me from my love to fly . I do not envy Aristotle's wit , Nor do aspire to Cæsar's bleeding fame ; Nor ought do care though ...
Стр. 11
... eyes , And of some sent from that sweet enemy , France ; Horsemen , my skill in horsemanship advance , Town - folks , my strength ; a daintier judge applies His praise to sleight , which from good use doth rise ; Some lucky wits impute ...
... eyes , And of some sent from that sweet enemy , France ; Horsemen , my skill in horsemanship advance , Town - folks , my strength ; a daintier judge applies His praise to sleight , which from good use doth rise ; Some lucky wits impute ...
Стр. 12
... eyes , Or of thy gifts at least shade out some part ! But she forbids ; with blushing words , she says , She builds her fame on higher - seated praise : But my heart burns , I cannot silent be . Then since , dear life , you fain would ...
... eyes , Or of thy gifts at least shade out some part ! But she forbids ; with blushing words , she says , She builds her fame on higher - seated praise : But my heart burns , I cannot silent be . Then since , dear life , you fain would ...
Стр. 13
... eyes my pride , thy lips mine history : If thou praise not , all other praise is shame . Nor so ambitious am I , as to frame A nest for my young praise in laurel tree : In truth I swear , I wish not there should be Grav'd in my epitaph ...
... eyes my pride , thy lips mine history : If thou praise not , all other praise is shame . Nor so ambitious am I , as to frame A nest for my young praise in laurel tree : In truth I swear , I wish not there should be Grav'd in my epitaph ...
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Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
ANNA SEWARD beams beauty behold birds bliss bowers breast breath bright brow CHARLOTTE SMITH clouds CYRIACK SKINNER dark dear death delight dost EDMUND SPENSER eyes fade fair faith fame flowers grace green grief grove happy hath heart heaven heavenly HENRY CONSTABLE HENRY KIRKE WHITE honour hope JOHN BAMPFYLDE JOHN MILTON light live looks lov'd love's MICHAEL DRAYTON mind mirth morn mourn Muse never night o'er pale peace Poems praise pride publick rest rose round SAMUEL DANIEL shades shine shore sigh sight silent sing SIR PHILIP SIDNEY Sith sleep smiles songs Sonnet by William sorrow soul spring stars sweet tears thee thine THOMAS EDWARDS THOMAS WARTON thou art thou hast thou shalt thought truth verse virtue vols waste weep WILLIAM DRUMMOND WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WILLIAM WORDSWORTH winds wings winter youth
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Стр. 201 - MILTON ! thou shouldst be living at this hour : England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters : altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Стр. 70 - That time of year thou may'st in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day, As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all the rest.
Стр. 205 - Homer ruled as his demesne; Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific — and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise — Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
Стр. 197 - ONCE did she hold the gorgeous east in fee ; And was the safeguard of the west : the worth Of Venice did not fall below her birth, Venice, the eldest child of liberty. She was a maiden city, bright and free ; No guile seduced, no force could violate ; And, when she took unto herself a mate, She must espouse the everlasting sea.
Стр. 61 - So am I as the rich, whose blessed key Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure, The which he will not every hour survey, For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure. Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare, Since seldom coming, in the long year set, Like stones of worth they thinly placed are, Or captain* jewels in the carcanet.
Стр. 81 - 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 expressed Even such a beauty as you master now.
Стр. 122 - I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent That murmur, soon replies, 'God doth not need Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state Is kingly : thousands at his bidding speed, And post o'er land and ocean without rest; They also serve who only stand and wait.
Стр. 64 - Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you, Nor think the bitterness of absence sour When you have bid your servant once adieu ; Nor dare I question with my jealous thought Where you may be, or your affairs suppose, But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought Save, where you are how happy you make those.
Стр. 71 - Why is my verse so barren of new pride, So far from variation or quick change ? Why, with the time, do I not glance aside To new-found methods and to compounds strange ? Why write I still all one, ever the same, And keep invention in a noted weed, • That every word doth almost tell my name, Showing their birth, and where they did proceed?
Стр. 72 - Then hate me when thou wilt ; if ever, now ; Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross, Join with the spite of fortune...