New Elegant Extracts: A Unique Selection from the Most Eminent British Poets and Poetical Translators, المجلد 3C. and C. Whittingham, 1823 |
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الصفحة 7
... rest , No slaves revere them , and no wars invade : Yet frequent now , at midnight's solemn hour , The rifted mounds their yawning cells unfold , And forth the monarchs stalk with sovereign power , In pageant robes , and wreath'd with ...
... rest , No slaves revere them , and no wars invade : Yet frequent now , at midnight's solemn hour , The rifted mounds their yawning cells unfold , And forth the monarchs stalk with sovereign power , In pageant robes , and wreath'd with ...
الصفحة 47
... rest his cause On faith , prescription , force , or laws , A host's or senate's voice ! His voice affirms thy stronger due , Who for the many made the few , And gave the species choice . Unsanctified by thy command , Unown'd by thee ...
... rest his cause On faith , prescription , force , or laws , A host's or senate's voice ! His voice affirms thy stronger due , Who for the many made the few , And gave the species choice . Unsanctified by thy command , Unown'd by thee ...
الصفحة 62
... Rest , Whose bosom , the sweet fount of Charity , Flows out to noursle + Innocence distress'd . His ear is open to the widow's cries , His hand the orphan's cheek of sorrow dries ; Like Mercy's self he looks on Want with Pity's eyes ...
... Rest , Whose bosom , the sweet fount of Charity , Flows out to noursle + Innocence distress'd . His ear is open to the widow's cries , His hand the orphan's cheek of sorrow dries ; Like Mercy's self he looks on Want with Pity's eyes ...
الصفحة 70
... rest . You , dear Ianthe , you alone impart Balm to my wounds , and cordial to my smart : The apple of my eye , the life - blood of my heart . With line of silk , with hook of barbed steel 70 P. V. ELEGANT EXTRACTS .
... rest . You , dear Ianthe , you alone impart Balm to my wounds , and cordial to my smart : The apple of my eye , the life - blood of my heart . With line of silk , with hook of barbed steel 70 P. V. ELEGANT EXTRACTS .
الصفحة 82
... rest , Calms the wild tumult of his breast , [ chain . And in thy silken bonds foregoes his ruthless Say , Sleep , whence o'er the mind Dost thou such potency derive , To bid the hosts of Thought , That with the light of day In chill ...
... rest , Calms the wild tumult of his breast , [ chain . And in thy silken bonds foregoes his ruthless Say , Sleep , whence o'er the mind Dost thou such potency derive , To bid the hosts of Thought , That with the light of day In chill ...
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طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
Anacreon ANNA SEWARD beams beauty beneath blast bless'd bliss bloom blush bosom bowers breast breath bright brow CHARLOTTE SMITH charms cheek cheer courser crown'd Cumnor dark dear death deep delight dost doth dreams earth fair fairy Fancy fire flame flowers fond gale gentle Glastonbury Abbey gloom glory glowing golden grace green groves hail hast hath hear heart heaven hill Hope hour Ianthe Inchcape Rock King King Arthur light lonely lyre maid Motezuma mourn Muse Musidora Naiads Nature's night numbers nymph o'er Ovid pale Petrarch plain R. A. DAVENPORT rage rapture rills round scenes shade shed shine sighs silent sing sleep smile soft song soothe sorrow soul sound Spring storm stranger band stream sweet swell tears tempests thee thine thou train vale vermil voice wake wave weep wild wind wing youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 313 - Coral is far more red than her lips' red: If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound: I grant I never saw a goddess go; My mistress, when...
الصفحة 311 - Since there's no help, come, let us kiss and part! Nay, I have done. You get no more of me! And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free. Shake hands for ever! Cancel all our vows! And when we meet at any time again, Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain.
الصفحة 325 - Purification in the old law did save, And such, as yet once more I trust to have Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint, Came vested all in white, pure as her mind. Her face was...
الصفحة 328 - Phoebus lifts his golden fire: The birds in vain their amorous descant join, Or cheerful fields resume their green attire: These ears alas! for other notes repine; A different object do these eyes require; My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine; And in my breast the imperfect joys expire; Yet Morning smiles the busy race to cheer, And new-born pleasure brings to happier men; The fields to all their wonted tribute bear; To warm their little loves the birds complain. I fruitless mourn to him that...
الصفحة 312 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste...
الصفحة 311 - ... no help, come let us kiss and part, — Nay I have done, you get no more of me; And I am glad, yea glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free; Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows, And when we meet at any time again, Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain. Now at the last gasp of love's latest breath, When his pulse failing, passion speechless lies, When faith is kneeling by his bed of death, And innocence is closing up his eyes, —...
الصفحة 328 - In vain to me the smiling mornings shine, And reddening Phoebus lifts his golden fire : The birds in vain their amorous descant join, Or cheerful fields resume their green attire. These ears, alas ! for other notes repine ; A different object do these eyes require ; My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine ; And in my breast the imperfect joys expire...
الصفحة 16 - Woods ! that listen to the night-birds singing, Midway the smooth and perilous slope reclined, Save when your own imperious branches swinging, Have made a solemn music of the wind ! Where, like a man beloved of God, Through glooms, which never woodman trod...
الصفحة 74 - Now air is hushed, save where the weak-eyed bat, With short, shrill shriek, flits by on leathern wing; Or where the beetle winds His small but sullen horn...
الصفحة 306 - The turtle to her mate hath told her tale. Summer is come, for every spray now springs: The hart hath hung his old head on the pale; The buck in brake his winter coat he flings ; The fishes flete with new repaired scale.