Foliorum silvula, selections for translation into Latin and Greek verse, by H.A. Holden, Том 1Hubert Ashton Holden 1864 |
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Стр. 12
... storm doth soonest tear ; I bear so low and small a sail as freeth me from fear . I envy not their hap , whom favour doth advance ; I take no pleasure in their pain , that have less happy chance . No change of Fortune's calms can cast ...
... storm doth soonest tear ; I bear so low and small a sail as freeth me from fear . I envy not their hap , whom favour doth advance ; I take no pleasure in their pain , that have less happy chance . No change of Fortune's calms can cast ...
Стр. 13
... storms are o'er , winter retires to make thee way : come then , thou sweetly - blooming flower , come , beauteous stranger , come away ! The sun is dressed in beaming smiles , to give thy beauties to the day ; young zephyrs wait with ...
... storms are o'er , winter retires to make thee way : come then , thou sweetly - blooming flower , come , beauteous stranger , come away ! The sun is dressed in beaming smiles , to give thy beauties to the day ; young zephyrs wait with ...
Стр. 44
... storm and wind . Ah ! if a providence doth sway this all , why should best minds groan under most distress ? or why should pride humility make thrall , and injuries the innocent oppress ? Heavens ! hinder , stop this fate ; or grant a ...
... storm and wind . Ah ! if a providence doth sway this all , why should best minds groan under most distress ? or why should pride humility make thrall , and injuries the innocent oppress ? Heavens ! hinder , stop this fate ; or grant a ...
Стр. 49
... storms their sullen shadows fling . Is it for me to strike the Idalian string , raise the soft music of the warbling wire , while in my ears the howls of furies ring and melancholy wastes the vital fire ? Away with thoughts like these ...
... storms their sullen shadows fling . Is it for me to strike the Idalian string , raise the soft music of the warbling wire , while in my ears the howls of furies ring and melancholy wastes the vital fire ? Away with thoughts like these ...
Стр. 50
... storm : — but , ah ! my self - will smiled , nor recked the gracious sound . So now defilement dims life's morning springs ; I cannot hear an early - cherished strain , but first a joy , and then it brings a pain— fear and self - hate ...
... storm : — but , ah ! my self - will smiled , nor recked the gracious sound . So now defilement dims life's morning springs ; I cannot hear an early - cherished strain , but first a joy , and then it brings a pain— fear and self - hate ...
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beauty beneath birds breast breath bright bring calm clouds College crown dark dead death deep delight dost doth dream earth Edition eyes fair fall fate fear feel fields fire flow flowers give glory golden grave green hand happy hast hath head hear heart heaven hope hour keep land late leaves light live look Lord mind morn mountains mourn Nature never night notes o'er pain pass peace pleasure rest rise rock roses round shade shore sigh sing skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stars storm stream sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thoughts trees true turn voice waves weep wild winds wings winter young youth δὲ καὶ τε
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Стр. 172 - The oracles are dumb; No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving: Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving: No nightly trance or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
Стр. 248 - Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is : What if my leaves are falling like its own ! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, spirit fierce, My spirit ! Be thou me, impetuous one ! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth...
Стр. 248 - WILD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou, Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill (Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air) With...
Стр. 216 - Now strike the golden lyre again : A louder yet, and yet a louder strain ! Break his bands of sleep asunder 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...
Стр. 9 - It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make Man better be ; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere : 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. 171 - No war, or battle's sound, Was heard the world around : The idle spear and shield were high up hung ; The hooked chariot stood Unstained with hostile blood ; The trumpet spake not to the armed throng ; And kings sat still with awful eye, As if they surely knew their sovereign Lord was by.
Стр. 267 - He who hath bent him o'er the dead Ere the first day of death is fled, The first dark day of nothingness, The last of danger and distress...
Стр. 145 - I'll never love thee more. As Alexander I will reign, And I will reign alone ; My thoughts did evermore disdain A rival on my throne. He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who dares not put it to the touch To gain or lose it all.
Стр. 46 - Milton! thou should'st 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.