The British Poets: Including Translations ...C. Whittingham, 1822 |
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الصفحة 58
... mortal view display , And the glad regions of eternal day . This daring Author scorns , by vulgar ways Of guilty wit , to merit worthless praise . Full of her glorious theme , his towering Muse , With generous zeal , a nobler fame ...
... mortal view display , And the glad regions of eternal day . This daring Author scorns , by vulgar ways Of guilty wit , to merit worthless praise . Full of her glorious theme , his towering Muse , With generous zeal , a nobler fame ...
الصفحة 67
... mortal than the common births of Fate . Each moment has its sickle , emulous Of Time's enormous scythe , whose ample sweep Strikes empires from the root ; each moment plays His little weapon in the narrower sphere Of sweet domestic ...
... mortal than the common births of Fate . Each moment has its sickle , emulous Of Time's enormous scythe , whose ample sweep Strikes empires from the root ; each moment plays His little weapon in the narrower sphere Of sweet domestic ...
الصفحة 74
... mortal but themselves ; Themselves , when some alarming shock of Fate Strikes through their wounded hearts the sudden dread : But their hearts wounded , like the wounded air , Soon close ; where past the shaft no trace is found . As ...
... mortal but themselves ; Themselves , when some alarming shock of Fate Strikes through their wounded hearts the sudden dread : But their hearts wounded , like the wounded air , Soon close ; where past the shaft no trace is found . As ...
الصفحة 77
... mortal , past thy cure . Accept the will : -that dies not with my strain . For what calls thy disease , Lorenzo ? not For Esculapian , but for moral aid . Thou think'st it folly to be wise too soon . Youth is not rich in time ; it may ...
... mortal , past thy cure . Accept the will : -that dies not with my strain . For what calls thy disease , Lorenzo ? not For Esculapian , but for moral aid . Thou think'st it folly to be wise too soon . Youth is not rich in time ; it may ...
الصفحة 95
... mortal hand ; it merits a divine : Angels should paint it , angels ever there , There on a post of honour and of joy . Dare I presume , then ? but Philander bids , And glory tempts , and inclination calls . Yet am I struck , as struck ...
... mortal hand ; it merits a divine : Angels should paint it , angels ever there , There on a post of honour and of joy . Dare I presume , then ? but Philander bids , And glory tempts , and inclination calls . Yet am I struck , as struck ...
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عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
ambition angels Anne Wharton art thou beam beneath bids bleeds bless'd bliss blood divine boundless Busiris call'd dark dead death Deity divine Dorset Downs dread dreams Duke of Wharton dust e'en earth Edward Young endless eternal fair fame fate fear fire flame folly fond fool friendship future genius give glorious glory grave grief guilt happiness heart Heaven hope hour human illustrious infidel labour life's light live Lorenzo Lyric Poetry man's mankind mortal Muse Narcissa Nature Nature's ne'er Night Thoughts nought numbers o'er pain passions peace Philander Pindaric pleasure poem poet poetry praise pride proud Reason Reason sleeps rich rise sacred says scene sense shade shines sigh skies smile song soul immortal stars strange thee theme thine throne tomb triumph truth virtue Virtue's wanted wing wing wisdom wise wish wretched Young
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الصفحة 74 - And that through every stage ; when young, indeed, In full content we sometimes nobly rest, Unanxious for ourselves, and only wish As duteous sons, our fathers were more wise. At thirty man suspects himself a fool ; Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan ; At fifty chides his infamous delay, Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve; In all the magnanimity of thought Resolves and re-resolves; then dies the same.
الصفحة 63 - How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, How complicate, how wonderful, is man...
الصفحة 87 - Tis greatly wise to talk with our past hours And ask them, what report they bore to heaven ; And how they might have borne more welcome news.
الصفحة 137 - Faith builds a bridge across the gulf of death, To break the shock blind nature cannot shun, And lands thought smoothly on the farther shore.
الصفحة 64 - An heir of glory ! a frail child of dust ! Helpless immortal ! insect infinite ! A worm ! a God ! — I tremble at myself, And in myself am lost.
الصفحة 66 - Here pinions all his wishes : wing'd by heaven To fly at infinite, and reach it there, Where seraphs gather immortality, On life's fair tree, fast by the throne of God.
الصفحة 65 - This is the desert, this the solitude : How populous, how vital, is the grave! This is creation's melancholy vault, The vale funereal, the sad cypress gloom ; The land of apparitions, empty shades ! All, all on earth is shadow, all beyond Is substance ; the reverse is folly's creed?
الصفحة 11 - It tells her, that his only title to the great honour he now does himself is the obligation which he formerly received from her royal indulgence. 'Of this obligation nothing is now known, unless he alluded to her being his godmother. He is said indeed to have been engaged at a settled stipend as a writer for the court. In Swift's Rhapsody on Poetry...
الصفحة 66 - Where time, and pain, and chance, and death, expire! And is it in the flight of threescore years, To push eternity from human thought, «And smother souls immortal in the dust? A soul immortal, spending all her fires, Wasting her strength in strenuous idleness, Thrown into tumult, raptured, or alarm'd, At aught this scene can threaten or indulge, Resembles ocean into tempest wrought, To waft a feather, or to drown a fly.
الصفحة 61 - TIRED Nature's sweet restorer, balmy Sleep ! He, like the world, his ready visit pays Where Fortune smiles ; the wretched he forsakes ; Swift on his downy pinion flies from woe, And lights on lids unsullied with a tear.