The Iliad, tr. by A. Pope1807 |
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الصفحة 40
... o'er the strand . Not so his loss the fierce Achilles bore ; But sad retiring to the sounding shore , 455 O'er the wild margin of the deep he hung , That kindred deep from whence his mother sprung : There , bath'd in tears of anger and ...
... o'er the strand . Not so his loss the fierce Achilles bore ; But sad retiring to the sounding shore , 455 O'er the wild margin of the deep he hung , That kindred deep from whence his mother sprung : There , bath'd in tears of anger and ...
الصفحة 45
... o'er the vaulted skies . What hast thou ask'd ? Ah why should Jove engage In foreign contests , and domestic rage , The gods ' complaints , and Juno's fierce alarms , While I , too partial , aid the Trojan arms ? 675 Go , lest the ...
... o'er the vaulted skies . What hast thou ask'd ? Ah why should Jove engage In foreign contests , and domestic rage , The gods ' complaints , and Juno's fierce alarms , While I , too partial , aid the Trojan arms ? 675 Go , lest the ...
الصفحة 53
... o'er my head , And , Dost thou sleep , oh Atreus ' son ? ( he said ) : Ill fits a chief who mighty nations guides , Directs in council , and in war presides , To whom its safety a whole people owes , To waste long nights in indolent ...
... o'er my head , And , Dost thou sleep , oh Atreus ' son ? ( he said ) : Ill fits a chief who mighty nations guides , Directs in council , and in war presides , To whom its safety a whole people owes , To waste long nights in indolent ...
الصفحة 55
... o'er , Safe and inglorious , to our native shore . Fly , Grecians , fly , your sails and óars employ , And dream no more of heaven - defended Troy . His deep design unknown , the hosts approve Atrides ' speech . The mighty numbers move ...
... o'er , Safe and inglorious , to our native shore . Fly , Grecians , fly , your sails and óars employ , And dream no more of heaven - defended Troy . His deep design unknown , the hosts approve Atrides ' speech . The mighty numbers move ...
الصفحة 61
... o'er the winding of Cäyster's springs , 546 Stretch their long necks , and clap their rustling wings , Now tower aloft , and course in airy rounds ; Now light with noise : with noise the field resounds . Thus numerous and confus'd ...
... o'er the winding of Cäyster's springs , 546 Stretch their long necks , and clap their rustling wings , Now tower aloft , and course in airy rounds ; Now light with noise : with noise the field resounds . Thus numerous and confus'd ...
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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.