The Poems of Thomas Gray: Embellished with Engravings from the Designs of Richd. WestallJ. Sharpe, 1821 - Всего страниц: 134 |
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Стр. xi
... ancient bards , perhaps , the most inaccessible to either rivals or imitators . The ori- ginal purpose of the Ode does not differ less than the style of the poetry , from that of modern lyrical composition . Designed , like the Drama ...
... ancient bards , perhaps , the most inaccessible to either rivals or imitators . The ori- ginal purpose of the Ode does not differ less than the style of the poetry , from that of modern lyrical composition . Designed , like the Drama ...
Стр. xvi
... ancient lyric , whatever was their precise object , were cer- tainly not arbitrary or useless divisions . These names , indeed , convey no meaning to an English ear , and perhaps their introduction rather savours of pedantry ; but the ...
... ancient lyric , whatever was their precise object , were cer- tainly not arbitrary or useless divisions . These names , indeed , convey no meaning to an English ear , and perhaps their introduction rather savours of pedantry ; but the ...
Стр. xxix
... Ancient Pile " is now a ruin . The " Ode on a Prospect of Eton College , " distant about four miles , was written on this spot . Sir Edward Coke's Column in the distance , is another of those chaste ornaments with which this classic ...
... Ancient Pile " is now a ruin . The " Ode on a Prospect of Eton College , " distant about four miles , was written on this spot . Sir Edward Coke's Column in the distance , is another of those chaste ornaments with which this classic ...
Стр. 42
... ancient right ; Till wrapp'd in flames , in ruin hurl'd , Sinks the fabric of the world . Ver . 86. But mother of the giant brood ] In the Latin , " ma- ter trium gigantum : " probably Angerbode , who from her name seems to be " no ...
... ancient right ; Till wrapp'd in flames , in ruin hurl'd , Sinks the fabric of the world . Ver . 86. But mother of the giant brood ] In the Latin , " ma- ter trium gigantum : " probably Angerbode , who from her name seems to be " no ...
Стр. 51
... ancient solitary reign . Hark ! how the sacred calm that breathes around , Bids every fierce tumultuous passion cease ; In still small accents whispering from the ground , A grateful earnest of eternal peace . Beneath those rugged elms ...
... ancient solitary reign . Hark ! how the sacred calm that breathes around , Bids every fierce tumultuous passion cease ; In still small accents whispering from the ground , A grateful earnest of eternal peace . Beneath those rugged elms ...
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
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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.