A Collection of Eighteenth Century Verse |
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Стр. 16
45 VII Orpheus could lead the savage race ; And trees unrooted left their place , Sequacious of the lyre : But bright Cecilia raised the wonder higher ; 50 When to her organ vocal breath was given , An 16 Eighteenth Century Verse.
45 VII Orpheus could lead the savage race ; And trees unrooted left their place , Sequacious of the lyre : But bright Cecilia raised the wonder higher ; 50 When to her organ vocal breath was given , An 16 Eighteenth Century Verse.
Стр. 17
When to her organ vocal breath was given , An angel heard , and straight appeared , Mistaking earth for heaven . GRAND CHORUS 55 As from the power of sacred lays The spheres began to move , And sung the great Creator's praise To all the ...
When to her organ vocal breath was given , An angel heard , and straight appeared , Mistaking earth for heaven . GRAND CHORUS 55 As from the power of sacred lays The spheres began to move , And sung the great Creator's praise To all the ...
Стр. 19
The jolly god in . triumph comes ; Sound the trumpets , beat the drums ; Flushed with a purple grace He shows his honest face : Now , give the hautboys breath ; he comes , he comes . 50 55 Bacchus , ever fair and young , Drinking joys ...
The jolly god in . triumph comes ; Sound the trumpets , beat the drums ; Flushed with a purple grace He shows his honest face : Now , give the hautboys breath ; he comes , he comes . 50 55 Bacchus , ever fair and young , Drinking joys ...
Стр. 24
VII 155 160 Thus , long ago , Ere heaving bellows learned to blow , While organs yet were mute , Timotheus , to his breathing flute , And sounding lyre , Could swell the soul to rage , or kindle soft desire . At last divine Cecilia came ...
VII 155 160 Thus , long ago , Ere heaving bellows learned to blow , While organs yet were mute , Timotheus , to his breathing flute , And sounding lyre , Could swell the soul to rage , or kindle soft desire . At last divine Cecilia came ...
Стр. 31
... With vernal sweets fresh breathing from the plains . Your tales be easy , natural , and gay , Nor all the poet in that part display ; Nor let the critic there his skill unfold , For Boccace thus , and Chaucer tales have told .
... With vernal sweets fresh breathing from the plains . Your tales be easy , natural , and gay , Nor all the poet in that part display ; Nor let the critic there his skill unfold , For Boccace thus , and Chaucer tales have told .
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appear arms beauty beneath bless breast breath bright charms clouds dark dead death deep earth eyes face fair fall fame fate fear fields fire give grace grave green grow hair hand head hear heard heart Heaven hill hope hour kind king land leave lies light live look maid mind morning mourn Muse nature never night nymph o'er once pain pass passions plain pleasing pleasure poor praise pride raise rest rise roll round rule scene seen sense shade shine side sigh sing smile soft song soul sound spread spring stand strain sweet tears tell thee things thou thought Till trembling true turn Twas verse voice waves wind wish wonder woods youth
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Стр. 83 - All nature is but art, unknown to thee ; All chance, direction, which thou canst not see ; All discord, harmony not understood; All partial evil, universal good. And, spite of pride, in erring reason's spite, One truth is clear,
Стр. 321 - Far other aims his heart had learned to prize, More skilled to raise the wretched than to rise. His house was known to all the vagrant train, He chid their wanderings, but relieved their pain...
Стр. 252 - 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.
Стр. 320 - To strip the brook with mantling cresses spread, To pick her wintry faggot from the thorn, To seek her nightly shed, and weep till morn; She only left of all the harmless train, The sad historian of the pensive plain.
Стр. 251 - Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind ; The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride With incense kindled at the Muse's flame.
Стр. 323 - Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way, With blossom'd furze unprofitably gay, There, in his noisy mansion, skilled to rule, The village master taught his little school. A man severe he was, and stern to view ; I knew him well, and every truant knew...
Стр. 324 - Thither no more the peasant shall repair To sweet oblivion of his daily care; No more the farmer's news, the barber's tale, No more the woodman's ballad, shall prevail; No more the smith his dusky brow shall clear, Relax his ponderous strength, and lean to hear...
Стр. 316 - How often have I blest the coming day, When toil remitting lent its turn to play, And all the village train, from labour free, Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree...
Стр. 319 - Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down; To husband out life's taper at the close, And keep the flame from wasting by repose; I still had hopes — for pride attends us still — Amidst the swains to show my...
Стр. 248 - THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds 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...
Библиографические данные
| Название | A Collection of Eighteenth Century Verse |
| Редактор | Margaret Lynn |
| Издатель | Macmillan, 1907 |
| Владелец оригинала: | Гарвардский университет |
| Оцифровано | 6 ноя 2007 |
| Количество страниц | Всего страниц: 484 |
| Экспорт цитаты | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |