The Iliad, tr. by A. Pope1807 |
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الصفحة 45
Homerus. Suppliant the goddess stood : one hand she plac'd Beneath his beard , and one his knees embrac'd . 651 If e'er , O father of the gods ! she said , My words could please thee , or my actions aid ; Some marks of honour on my son ...
Homerus. Suppliant the goddess stood : one hand she plac'd Beneath his beard , and one his knees embrac'd . 651 If e'er , O father of the gods ! she said , My words could please thee , or my actions aid ; Some marks of honour on my son ...
الصفحة 54
... hand the golden sceptre blaz'd : The golden sceptre , of celestial frame , 125 By Vulcan form'd , from Jove to Hermes came : To Pelops he th ' immortal gift resign'd ; Th ' immortal gift great Pelops left behind , In Atreus ' hand ...
... hand the golden sceptre blaz'd : The golden sceptre , of celestial frame , 125 By Vulcan form'd , from Jove to Hermes came : To Pelops he th ' immortal gift resign'd ; Th ' immortal gift great Pelops left behind , In Atreus ' hand ...
الصفحة 58
... shore , And let these eyes behold my son no more , If , on thy next offence , this hand forbear To strip those arms thou ill deserv'st to wear , 320 Expel the council where our princes meet , And send 33 BOOK II . 58 THE ILIAD .
... shore , And let these eyes behold my son no more , If , on thy next offence , this hand forbear To strip those arms thou ill deserv'st to wear , 320 Expel the council where our princes meet , And send 33 BOOK II . 58 THE ILIAD .
الصفحة 68
... hand no more awak'd the silver string . Where under high Cyllene , crown'd with wood , The shaded tomb of old Epytus stood ; 730 From Ripe , Stratie , Tegea's bordering towns , The Phenean fields , and Orchomenian downs , Where the fat ...
... hand no more awak'd the silver string . Where under high Cyllene , crown'd with wood , The shaded tomb of old Epytus stood ; 730 From Ripe , Stratie , Tegea's bordering towns , The Phenean fields , and Orchomenian downs , Where the fat ...
الصفحة 90
... hand , Broke short : the fragments glitter'd on the sand . The raging warrior to the spacious skies 445 450 455 Rais'd his upbraiding voice , and angry eyes : Then is it vain in Jove himself to trust ? And is it thus the gods assist the ...
... hand , Broke short : the fragments glitter'd on the sand . The raging warrior to the spacious skies 445 450 455 Rais'd his upbraiding voice , and angry eyes : Then is it vain in Jove himself to trust ? And is it thus the gods assist the ...
طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
Achilles Æneas Agamemnon Ajax Antilochus arms Asius Atrides bands battle behold beneath blood bold brave brazen breast chariot chief combat command coursers crown'd dart dead death descends Diomed divine dreadful dust Eurypylus Ev'n eyes fair falchion fall fame fate fear field fierce fight fire fix'd flames fleet flies force fury glory goddess godlike gods gore Grecian Greece Greeks hand haste heaps heart heaven heavenly Hector hero honours host Idomeneus Ilion immortal javelin Jove Jove's king lance Lycian martial Menelaus mighty monarch mortal Nestor numbers o'er Pallas Patroclus Peleus Pelides pierc'd plain Polydamas Priam prize proud Pylian race rage rise round sacred shade shield shining ships shore Simoïs sire skies slain soul spear spoke stand steeds stern stood stretch'd swift Teucer thee Thetis thou throne thunder toils trembling Trojan troops Troy Tydeus Tydides Ulysses urg'd walls warrior wound youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 151 - Too daring prince! ah, whither dost thou run? Ah, too forgetful of thy wife and son! And think'st thou not how wretched we shall be, A widow I, a helpless orphan he? For sure such courage length of life denies, And thou must fall, thy virtue's sacrifice. Greece in her single heroes strove in vain; Now hosts oppose thee, and thou must be slain.
الصفحة 189 - O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed, And tip with silver every mountain's head ; Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise, A flood of glory bursts from all the skies : The conscious swains, rejoicing in the sight, Eye the blne vault, and bless the useful light.
الصفحة 3 - Judgment itself can at best but steal wisely : for Art is only like a prudent steward that lives on managing the riches of Nature. Whatever praises may be given to works of Judgment, there is not even a single beauty in them, to which the Invention must not contribute.
الصفحة 29 - ACHILLES' wrath, to Greece the direful spring Of woes unnumber'd, heavenly goddess, sing ! That wrath which hurl'd to Pluto's gloomy reign The souls of mighty chiefs untimely slain ; Whose limbs, unburied on the naked shore, Devouring dogs and hungry vultures tore; Since great Achilles and Atrides strove, Such was the sovereign doom, and such the will of Jove.
الصفحة 80 - Lean'd on the walls and bask'd before the sun: Chiefs, who no more in bloody fights engage, But wise through time, and narrative with age, In summer days, like grasshoppers rejoice, A bloodless race, that send a feeble voice.
الصفحة 153 - Priam's hoary hairs defiled with gore, Not all my brothers gasping on the shore ; As thine, Andromache ! thy griefs I dread ; I see thee trembling, weeping, captive led...
الصفحة 104 - Tydides rushing to the war. As when the winds, ascending by degrees, First move the whitening surface of the seas, The billows float in order to the shore, The wave behind rolls on the wave before; Till, with the growing storm, the deeps arise, Foam o'er the rocks, and thunder to the skies.
الصفحة 154 - No more — but hasten to thy tasks at home, There guide the spindle and direct the loom. Me glory summons to the martial scene ; The field of combat is the sphere for men. Where heroes war, the foremost place I claim, The first in danger, as the first in fame.
الصفحة 154 - Andromache ! my soul's far better part, Why with untimely sorrows heaves thy heart.? No hostile hand can antedate my doom, Till fate condemns me to the silent tomb. Fix'd is the term to all the race of earth, And such the hard condition of our birth : No force can then resist, no flight can save ; All sink alike, the fearful and the brave.
الصفحة 272 - Such, they may cry, deserve the sovereign state, Whom those that envy dare not imitate ! Could all our care elude the gloomy grave, Which claims no less the fearful than the brave, For lust of fame I should not vainly dare In fighting fields, nor urge thy soul to war.