The Poems of Thomas Gray: Embellished with Engravings from the Designs of Richd. WestallJ. Sharpe, 1821 - Всего страниц: 134 |
Результаты поиска по книге
Результаты 1 – 5 из 9
Стр. xxix
... Edward Coke's Column in the distance , is another of those chaste ornaments with which this classic scene is adorned . The inscription and quotations follow- ing , are on the several sides of the pedestal of the Sarco- phagus . This ...
... Edward Coke's Column in the distance , is another of those chaste ornaments with which this classic scene is adorned . The inscription and quotations follow- ing , are on the several sides of the pedestal of the Sarco- phagus . This ...
Стр. 18
... Edward the First , when he completed the conquest of that country , ordered all the Bards that fell into his hands to be put to death . I. 1 . " RUIN Seize thee , ruthless King ! Confusion on thy banners wait ; Though fann'd by ...
... Edward the First , when he completed the conquest of that country , ordered all the Bards that fell into his hands to be put to death . I. 1 . " RUIN Seize thee , ruthless King ! Confusion on thy banners wait ; Though fann'd by ...
Стр. 19
... Edward . - He died 1295 . Ver . 14. " To arms ! " cried Mortimer ] Edmond de Morti- mer , Lord of Wigmore . They both were Lord Marchers , whose lands lay on the borders of Wales , and probably accompanied the king in this expedition ...
... Edward . - He died 1295 . Ver . 14. " To arms ! " cried Mortimer ] Edmond de Morti- mer , Lord of Wigmore . They both were Lord Marchers , whose lands lay on the borders of Wales , and probably accompanied the king in this expedition ...
Стр. 21
... Edward's race . Give ample room , and verge enough The characters of hell to trace . Mark the year , and mark the ... Edward the Second , cruelly butchered in Berkley Castle . Ver . 57. She - wolf of France ] Isabel of France , Edward ...
... Edward's race . Give ample room , and verge enough The characters of hell to trace . Mark the year , and mark the ... Edward the Second , cruelly butchered in Berkley Castle . Ver . 57. She - wolf of France ] Isabel of France , Edward ...
Стр. 22
... Edward the Black Prince , dead some time before his father . Ver . 71. Fair laughs the morn , and soft the zephyr blows ] Magnificence of Richard the Second's reign . See Froissart , and other contemporary writers . Ver . 77. Fill high ...
... Edward the Black Prince , dead some time before his father . Ver . 71. Fair laughs the morn , and soft the zephyr blows ] Magnificence of Richard the Second's reign . See Froissart , and other contemporary writers . Ver . 77. Fill high ...
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
ACERONIA Æolian AGRIPPINA Anicetus atque awake bard beneath blooming band breast breath brow dauntless death divine DRAWN BY RICHARD dread earl Edward Eirin Elegy Eton College eyes fame fate fears glitt'ring glory golden golden reign grace Gray Gray's hæc hand Hark hear heart heav'n Henry the Sixth honour JOHN SHARPE king lady Long Story Lord lyre Margaret of Anjou Mason MDCCLXXI mind morn mother muse ne'er o'er ODIN Otho pain PICCADILLY Pindar pleasure poem poet poetry PROPHETESS PUBLISHED BY JOHN quæ Queen reign repose RICHARD WESTALL round says shade Sisters smiling soft solemn song soul spirit stanza Stoke style sublime sweet Taliessin taste tear thee THOMAS GRAY Thormodus Torfæus thou trembling vale verse victorious bands voice Walpole warblings warm wat'ry Weave weep Welsh wing written YORK PUBLIC YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY youth
Популярные отрывки
Стр. 6 - Say, Father Thames, for thou hast seen Full many a sprightly race Disporting on thy margent green The paths of pleasure trace; Who foremost now delight to cleave With pliant arm, thy glassy wave?
Стр. 5 - expanse below Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey, Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among Wanders the hoary Thames along His silver-winding way.
Стр. 73 - See the wretch that long has tost On the thorny bed of pain, At length repair his vigour lost And breathe, and walk again: The meanest floweret of the vale, The simplest note that swells the gale, The common sun, the air, the skies, To him are opening Paradise.
Стр. 56 - THE EPITAPH. Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth A Youth, to Fortune and to Fame unknown; Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth, And Melancholy mark'd him for her own.
Стр. 23 - Fill high the sparkling bowl, The rich repast prepare, Reft of a crown, he yet may share the feast: Close by the regal chair Fell thirst and famine scowl A baleful smile upon their baffled guest. Heard ye the din of battle bray, Lance to lance, and horse to horse ? Long years of havoc urge their destined course, And thro' the kindred squadrons mow their way.
Стр. 51 - The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Стр. 12 - Awake, /Eolian lyre, awake, And give to rapture all thy trembling strings. From Helicon's harmonious springs A thousand rills their mazy progress take ; The laughing flowers, that round them blow, Drink life and fragrance as they flow. Now the rich stream of music winds along, Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong, Through verdant vales, and Ceres...
Стр. 52 - Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys and destiny obscure ; Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the poor. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Await alike the' inevitable hour : The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Стр. 19 - Such were the sounds, that o'er the crested pride Of the first Edward scatter'd wild dismay, As down the steep of Snowdon's shaggy side He wound with toilsome march his long array. Stout Glo'ster stood aghast in speechless trance : ' To arms ! ' cried Mortimer, and couch'd his quivering lance.
Стр. 55 - 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, Mutt'ring his wayward fancies he would rove, Now drooping, woeful-wan, like one forlorn, Or craz'd with care, or cross'd in hopeless love.