Bell's Classical Arrangement of Fugitive Poetry: Vol. X.John Bell, 1789 - 192 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 1
... wings were fledg'd , ne locks were grey ; Round him in sweet accord the Seasons play With fruites and blossoms meint , in goodly gree ; And dancing hand in hand rejoice the lea . Sick gardens now no mortal wight can see , Ne mote they ...
... wings were fledg'd , ne locks were grey ; Round him in sweet accord the Seasons play With fruites and blossoms meint , in goodly gree ; And dancing hand in hand rejoice the lea . Sick gardens now no mortal wight can see , Ne mote they ...
الصفحة 3
... wing douts those flames with peevish dis- content . ས . Celestial Venus does such ribaulds shun , Ne dare they in her purlues to be seen ; But Cupid's torch , fair mother's fairest son , Shines with a steady unconsuming sheen ; Not ...
... wing douts those flames with peevish dis- content . ས . Celestial Venus does such ribaulds shun , Ne dare they in her purlues to be seen ; But Cupid's torch , fair mother's fairest son , Shines with a steady unconsuming sheen ; Not ...
الصفحة 7
... wing : yet tender look , And oft reverted eye on her bestows ; Fearful , but not distrustful of her vows . And mild regards she back reflects on him : With aching eye pursues him as he goes : With aching heart marks each diminish'd limb ...
... wing : yet tender look , And oft reverted eye on her bestows ; Fearful , but not distrustful of her vows . And mild regards she back reflects on him : With aching eye pursues him as he goes : With aching heart marks each diminish'd limb ...
الصفحة 42
... wing from bow the nimble flight , Some the near foe with brondiron to amate ; Me too they welcome to the hall of state ; With bel accoil they wished me to take A round or two , and choose me out a mate : But my fond love , which nothing ...
... wing from bow the nimble flight , Some the near foe with brondiron to amate ; Me too they welcome to the hall of state ; With bel accoil they wished me to take A round or two , and choose me out a mate : But my fond love , which nothing ...
الصفحة 61
... wing , And , when she rais'd her voice , no lark so soot could sing . XXVIII . " In virtue's thews I bred the lovely maid , And she right well the lessons did pursue ; Too wise she was to be by man betray'd ; But the curst blatant ...
... wing , And , when she rais'd her voice , no lark so soot could sing . XXVIII . " In virtue's thews I bred the lovely maid , And she right well the lessons did pursue ; Too wise she was to be by man betray'd ; But the curst blatant ...
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عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
adorn auncient beauteous beauty beneath birdlime Bishop of London blatant-beast bliss bosom bowre breast bright cave certes changd charms cliffs Columbel coursers Cupid dale dark Edwin eyes FAERIE QUEENE fair fallow deer fame Fancy farre Favonius fell flame flowery flowre gale gentle grace green grove happy heart heaven hight hill hope Kathrin Knight lawnskepe Lemman Lycon lyre maid mind morn mote murmuring Muse Nature's ne'er never Nymph o'er pain pale peace perdie Phoebus Poem powre pride Psyche quoth rage rill rise rose forbear round rovd scene seem'd shade shepherd sight skie smile smyle song soon sooth soul Spenser spleen Squire of Dames stream stronds swain sweet Syr Martyns tale tear thee thine thou thrall toil truth vale virtue wander warbling wave ween wend wight wild wings wylde youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 127 - Hail, awful scenes, that calm the troubled breast, And woo the weary to profound repose ! Can Passion's wildest uproar lay to rest, And whisper comfort to the man of woes ! Here Innocence may wander, safe from foes, And Contemplation soar on seraph wings.
الصفحة 106 - In truth he was a strange and wayward wight, Fond of each gentle, and each dreadful scene. In darkness, and in storm, he found delight : Nor less, than when on. ocean-wave serene The southern sun diffused his dazzling...
الصفحة 100 - O how canst thou renounce the boundless store Of charms which Nature to her votary yields ! The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields; All that the genial ray of morning gilds, And all that echoes to the song of even, All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, And all the dread magnificence of heaven, O how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven I X.
الصفحة 113 - O Nature, how in every charm supreme ! Whose votaries feast on raptures ever new ! O for the voice and fire of seraphim, To sing thy glories with devotion due ! Blest be the day I 'scaped the wrangling crew. From Pyrrho's maze, and Epicurus...
الصفحة 130 - Let Vanity adorn the marble tomb With trophies, rhymes, and scutcheons of renown, In the deep dungeon of some Gothic dome, Where night and desolation ever frown. Mine be the breezy hill that skirts the down ; Where a green grassy turf is all I crave, With here and there a violet bestrown, Fast by a brook, or fountain's murmuring wave. And many an evening sun shine sweetly on my grave.
الصفحة 138 - Sweet were your shades, O ye primeval groves ! Whose boughs to man his food and shelter lent, Pure in his pleasures, happy in his loves, His eye still smiling, and his heart content. Then, hand in hand, health, sport, and labour went. Nature supply'd the wish she taught to crave.
الصفحة 115 - O cruel ! will no pang of pity pierce That heart, by lust of lucre sear'd to stone ? For sure, if aught of virtue last, or verse, To latest times shall tender souls bemoan Those hopeless orphan-babes by thy fell arts undone.
الصفحة 97 - I who can tell how hard it is to climb The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar...
الصفحة 148 - Warbling at will through each harmonious maze, Was taught to modulate the artful strain, I fain would sing : — but ah ! I strive in vain. Sighs from a breaking heart my voice confound . With trembling step, to join yon weeping train , I haste, where gleams funereal glare around, And, mix'd with shrieks of woe, the knells of death resound. LXII. Adieu, ye lays, that Fancy's flowers adorn, The soft amusement of the vacant mind...
الصفحة 123 - OF chance or change, 0 let not man complain, Else shall he never, never cease to wail ; For, from the imperial dome, to where the swain Rears the lone cottage in the silent dale, All feel the assault of Fortune's fickle gale...