The English Poets, Volume 2Thomas Humphry Ward Macmillan, 1880 |
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Pagina 9
... sight , That they still were to run by her side , Through swords , through seas , whither she would ride . 1 A translation from the Latin of Bonnefonius ( Jean Bonnefons ) . Do but look on her eyes , they do light BEN JONSON . 9 ...
... sight , That they still were to run by her side , Through swords , through seas , whither she would ride . 1 A translation from the Latin of Bonnefonius ( Jean Bonnefons ) . Do but look on her eyes , they do light BEN JONSON . 9 ...
Pagina 10
... sight in mysteries : Upon each shoulder sits a milk - white dove , And at her feet do witty serpents move : Her spacious arms do reach from east to west , And you may see her heart shine through her breast . Her right hand holds a sun ...
... sight in mysteries : Upon each shoulder sits a milk - white dove , And at her feet do witty serpents move : Her spacious arms do reach from east to west , And you may see her heart shine through her breast . Her right hand holds a sun ...
Pagina 20
... sight it were To see thee in our waters yet appear , And make those flights upon the banks of Thames , That so did take Eliza and our James ! But stay , I see thee in the hemisphere Advanced , and made a constellation there ! Shine ...
... sight it were To see thee in our waters yet appear , And make those flights upon the banks of Thames , That so did take Eliza and our James ! But stay , I see thee in the hemisphere Advanced , and made a constellation there ! Shine ...
Pagina 29
... sight ? How poorly look'st thou , with what heavy cheer , Since that sun set , which made thee shine so bright ? Unhappy now thee close , for as of late To wond'ring eyes thou wast a paradise , Bereft of her who made thee fortunate , A ...
... sight ? How poorly look'st thou , with what heavy cheer , Since that sun set , which made thee shine so bright ? Unhappy now thee close , for as of late To wond'ring eyes thou wast a paradise , Bereft of her who made thee fortunate , A ...
Pagina 31
... sight . Phoebus , arise , SONG . And paint the sable skies With azure , white , and red ; Rouse Memnon's mother from her Tithon's bed , That she thy cáreer1 may with roses spread ; The nightingales thy coming each where sing ; Make an ...
... sight . Phoebus , arise , SONG . And paint the sable skies With azure , white , and red ; Rouse Memnon's mother from her Tithon's bed , That she thy cáreer1 may with roses spread ; The nightingales thy coming each where sing ; Make an ...
Overige edities - Alles bekijken
The English Poets: Selections with Critical Introductions, Volume 2 Thomas Humphry Ward Volledige weergave - 1902 |
The English Poets: Selections with Critical Introductions, Volume 2 Thomas Humphry Ward Volledige weergave - 1905 |
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
Absalom and Achitophel Æneid beauty Ben Jonson born breast breath bright Carew Castara Comus conceits Cowley crown death delight died divine dost doth Dryden earth EDMUND W English English poetry eternal eyes fair fame fancy fate fear fire flame flowers Giles Fletcher glory Gondibert grace hand happy hast hath heart heaven hell Herbert Herrick Hesperides hill honour Hudibras Inner Temple Jonson King Lady light live Lord lost Lycidas Milton mind mistress Muse nature never night o'er once Paradise Paradise Lost Paradise Regained passion Perilla Pindar pleasure poems poet poetic poetry praise reign rose sacred shade shalt shepherds shine sighs sight sing sleep song sonnet soul spirit stars sweet tears thee thine things thou thought tree verse Waller wanton weep winds wings write youth
Populaire passages
Pagina 14 - DRINK to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Pagina 337 - He scarce had ceased when the superior Fiend Was moving toward the shore ; his ponderous shield, Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round, Behind him cast. The broad circumference Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views At evening, from the top of Fesole, Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands, Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe.
Pagina 218 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Pagina 178 - Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale?
Pagina 218 - Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill ; But their strong nerves at last must yield ; They tame but one another still : Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath, When they, poor captives, creep to death.
Pagina 454 - Of these the false Achitophel was first, A name to all succeeding ages curst: For close designs and crooked counsels fit, Sagacious, bold, and turbulent of wit; Restless, unfixed in principles and place, In power unpleased, impatient of disgrace ; A fiery soul, which working out its way, Fretted the pigmy body to decay, And o'er-informed the tenement of clay.
Pagina 311 - And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess, As thick and numberless As the gay motes that people the sun-beams, Or likest hovering dreams, The fickle pensioners of Morpheus
Pagina 357 - The birds their quire apply ; airs, vernal airs, Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune The trembling leaves, while universal Pan, Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance, Led on the eternal spring.
Pagina 301 - I am now indebted, as being a work not to be raised from the heat of youth, or the vapours of wine, like that which flows at waste from the pen of some vulgar amourist, or the trencher fury of a rhyming parasite ; nor to be obtained by the invocation of dame Memory and her siren daughters ; but by devout prayer to that eternal spirit, who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his seraphim with the hallowed fire of his altar to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases...
Pagina 20 - And joyed to wear the dressing of his lines, Which were so richly spun, and woven so fit, As, since, she will vouchsafe no other wit. The merry Greek, tart Aristophanes, Neat Terence, witty Plautus, now not please; But antiquated and deserted lie, As they were not of Nature's family. Yet must I not give Nature all; thy Art, My gentle Shakspeare, must enjoy a part.