Ben Jonson to DrydenThomas Humphry Ward Macmillan and Company, 1880 |
من داخل الكتاب
النتائج 1-5 من 70
الصفحة vii
... singing The Lady to her Inconstant Servant . A Pastoral Dialogue Extract from The Rapture Epitaph on the Lady Mary Villers Song • The Protestation In Praise of his Mistress 81 82 83 84 85 85 W. T. Arnold 86 · 90 • 91 . 95 · 97 · 99 ...
... singing The Lady to her Inconstant Servant . A Pastoral Dialogue Extract from The Rapture Epitaph on the Lady Mary Villers Song • The Protestation In Praise of his Mistress 81 82 83 84 85 85 W. T. Arnold 86 · 90 • 91 . 95 · 97 · 99 ...
الصفحة xi
... Singing The Tomb SIR WILLIAM DAVENANT ( 1605-1668 ) Extract from Gondibert Song On the Captivity of the Countess of Anglesey JOHN MILTON ( 1608 1674 ) • Edmund W. Gosse 286 · 287 287 Edmund W. Gosse 289 · 290 291 292 . Mark Pattison 293 ...
... Singing The Tomb SIR WILLIAM DAVENANT ( 1605-1668 ) Extract from Gondibert Song On the Captivity of the Countess of Anglesey JOHN MILTON ( 1608 1674 ) • Edmund W. Gosse 286 · 287 287 Edmund W. Gosse 289 · 290 291 292 . Mark Pattison 293 ...
الصفحة 8
... sings . Droop herbs and flowers , Fall grief in showers , Our beauties are not ours ; O , I could still , Like melting snow upon some craggy hill , Drop , drop , drop , drop , Since nature's pride is now a withered daffodil . VENETIAN ...
... sings . Droop herbs and flowers , Fall grief in showers , Our beauties are not ours ; O , I could still , Like melting snow upon some craggy hill , Drop , drop , drop , drop , Since nature's pride is now a withered daffodil . VENETIAN ...
الصفحة 13
... sing The glories of thy king , His zeal to God , and his just awe o'er men : They may , blood - shaken then , Feel such a flesh - quake to possess their powers , As they shall cry : ' Like ours In sound of peace or wars , No harp e'er ...
... sing The glories of thy king , His zeal to God , and his just awe o'er men : They may , blood - shaken then , Feel such a flesh - quake to possess their powers , As they shall cry : ' Like ours In sound of peace or wars , No harp e'er ...
الصفحة 17
... sings ; Or droop they as disgraced , To see their seats and bowers by chattering pies defaced ? If hence thy silence be , As ' tis too just a cause , Let this thought quicken thee : Minds that are great and free Should not on fortune ...
... sings ; Or droop they as disgraced , To see their seats and bowers by chattering pies defaced ? If hence thy silence be , As ' tis too just a cause , Let this thought quicken thee : Minds that are great and free Should not on fortune ...
المحتوى
104 | |
115 | |
124 | |
130 | |
136 | |
144 | |
153 | |
170 | |
181 | |
189 | |
192 | |
197 | |
213 | |
219 | |
306 | |
315 | |
322 | |
325 | |
380 | |
388 | |
396 | |
409 | |
415 | |
424 | |
430 | |
437 | |
447 | |
طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
Absalom and Achitophel Æneid beauty Ben Jonson born breast breath bright Castara Comus Cowley crown dark death delight divine dost doth Dryden earth EDMUND W English English poetry eternal eyes fair fame fancy fate fear fire flame flowers Giles Fletcher glory golden Gondibert grace hand happy hast hath heart heaven hell Herbert Herrick hill honour Hudibras Il Penseroso John Dryden Jonson King L'Allegro Lady light live Lord Lycidas Milton mind mistress Muse nature never night nymphs o'er odes once Paradise Lost Paradise Regained passion pleasure poem poet poet's poetic poetry praise pride reign rose sacred satire shade shepherds sighs sight sing sleep song sonnet soul spirits stars stream sweet tears temple thee thence thine things thou thought tree verse Waller wanton winds wings write youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 260 - Go, lovely rose, Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died.
الصفحة 323 - He scarce had ceased when the superior Fiend Was moving toward the shore ; his ponderous shield, Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round, Behind him cast. The broad circumference Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views At evening, from the top of Fesole, Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands, Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe.
الصفحة 442 - A man so various that he seemed to be Not one, but all mankind's epitome : Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong, Was everything by starts and nothing long; But in the course of one revolving moon Was chymist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon ; Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking, Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking.
الصفحة 338 - Me miserable ! which way shall I fly Infinite wrath, and infinite despair ? Which way I fly is hell ; myself am hell ; And in the lowest deep a lower deep Still threatening to devour me opens wide ; To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.
الصفحة 467 - At last divine Cecilia came, Inventress of the vocal frame; The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, Enlarged the former narrow bounds, And added length to solemn sounds, With Nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before. Let old Timotheus yield the prize, Or both divide the crown : He raised a mortal to the skies: She drew an angel down.
الصفحة 164 - Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale? Why so dull and mute, young sinner? Prithee, why so mute? Will, when speaking well can't win her, Saying nothing do't? Prithee, why so mute? Quit, quit, for shame, this will not move: This cannot take her. If of herself she will not love, Nothing can make her: The devil take her!
الصفحة 204 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
الصفحة 343 - The birds their quire apply ; airs, vernal airs, Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune The trembling leaves, while universal Pan, Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance, Led on the eternal spring.
الصفحة 310 - Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights and live laborious days: But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, And think to burst out into sudden blaze, Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears And slits the thin-spun life.
الصفحة 305 - Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment ? Sure something holy lodges in that breast, And with these raptures moves the vocal air To testify his hidden residence.