A Collection of Eighteenth Century Verse |
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Стр. 15
The double , double , double beat Of the thundering drum , Cries , hark ! the foes come : Charge , charge ! ' tis too late to retreat . 30 IV The soft , complaining flute , In dying notes A Song for St. Cecilia's Day 15.
The double , double , double beat Of the thundering drum , Cries , hark ! the foes come : Charge , charge ! ' tis too late to retreat . 30 IV The soft , complaining flute , In dying notes A Song for St. Cecilia's Day 15.
Стр. 16
IV The soft , complaining flute , In dying notes , discovers The woes of hopeless lovers ; Whose dirge is whispered by the warbling lute . 35 V Sharp violins proclaim Their jealous pangs , and desperation , Fury , frantic indignation ...
IV The soft , complaining flute , In dying notes , discovers The woes of hopeless lovers ; Whose dirge is whispered by the warbling lute . 35 V Sharp violins proclaim Their jealous pangs , and desperation , Fury , frantic indignation ...
Стр. 20
... And , while he heaven and earth defied , Changed his hand , and checked his pride . He chose a mournful muse , Soft pity to infuse , He sung Darius great and good 75 80 By too severe a fate , Fallen , fallen 20 Eighteenth Century Verse.
... And , while he heaven and earth defied , Changed his hand , and checked his pride . He chose a mournful muse , Soft pity to infuse , He sung Darius great and good 75 80 By too severe a fate , Fallen , fallen 20 Eighteenth Century Verse.
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. 29
Not the soft Nights , or cheerful Days Thou hast bestowed , can give thee Praise . No lusty Tree that ' near thee grows , ( Tho ' it beneath thy Shelter rose ) Will to thy Age a Staff become . Fall , wretched Building ! to the Tomb .
Not the soft Nights , or cheerful Days Thou hast bestowed , can give thee Praise . No lusty Tree that ' near thee grows , ( Tho ' it beneath thy Shelter rose ) Will to thy Age a Staff become . Fall , wretched Building ! to the Tomb .
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Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
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 |