The English Anthology ...Joseph Ritson C. Clarke, 1793 - 334 من الصفحات "A selection of English poetry, in a chronological series, from the beginning of the sixteenth century (or, including an extract from Chaucer, from the latter part of the fourteenth) to the present time, upon a plan hitherto unattempted, at least in this country. ... No alteration (except in apparent mistakes) has been attempted either in the language or in the orthography, as as little as possible even in the punctuation, of the edition followed ... nor has any piece been inserted which had already appeared in "A Select Collection of English Songs," published in 1783"--Advertisement. |
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الصفحة 33
Joseph Ritson. There on beds of violets blew , And fresh - blown roses washt in dew , Fill'd her with thee a daughter fair , So buckfom , blith , and debonair . Hafte thee nymph , and bring with thee Jeft and youthful Jollity , 26 Quips ...
Joseph Ritson. There on beds of violets blew , And fresh - blown roses washt in dew , Fill'd her with thee a daughter fair , So buckfom , blith , and debonair . Hafte thee nymph , and bring with thee Jeft and youthful Jollity , 26 Quips ...
الصفحة 46
... rose at ev'ning bright , Toward Heav'ns defcent had flop'd his weftering wheel . Mean while the rural ditties were not mute , Temper'd to th ' oaten flute , 30 Rough fatyrs danc'd , and fauns with cloven heel From the glad found would ...
... rose at ev'ning bright , Toward Heav'ns defcent had flop'd his weftering wheel . Mean while the rural ditties were not mute , Temper'd to th ' oaten flute , 30 Rough fatyrs danc'd , and fauns with cloven heel From the glad found would ...
الصفحة 76
... roses whilft I live , Now your wines and ointments give : After death I nothing crave , Let me alive my pleasures have , All are ftoicks in the grave . } 15 20 25 CLAUDIANS OLD MAN OF VERONA . BY THE SAME . HAPPY the man , who his whole ...
... roses whilft I live , Now your wines and ointments give : After death I nothing crave , Let me alive my pleasures have , All are ftoicks in the grave . } 15 20 25 CLAUDIANS OLD MAN OF VERONA . BY THE SAME . HAPPY the man , who his whole ...
الصفحة 81
... roses overgrown , And lillies , that you would it guess 65 To be a little wilderness . And all the spring - time of the year It only loved to be there . Among the beds of lillies I Have fought it , oft , where it should lye : Yet could ...
... roses overgrown , And lillies , that you would it guess 65 To be a little wilderness . And all the spring - time of the year It only loved to be there . Among the beds of lillies I Have fought it , oft , where it should lye : Yet could ...
الصفحة 82
... roses on my lip . But all its chief delight was still On roses thus its felf to fill : And its pure virgin limbs to fold In whiteft sheets of lillies cold . Had it liv'd long , it would have been Lillies without , roses within . 75 80 O ...
... roses on my lip . But all its chief delight was still On roses thus its felf to fill : And its pure virgin limbs to fold In whiteft sheets of lillies cold . Had it liv'd long , it would have been Lillies without , roses within . 75 80 O ...
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طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
againſt beauty bleft Born breaſt cauſe charms cloſe Cynthus DAPHNIS defire deſpair doth dyed e'er eaſe Ev'n ev'ry eyes facred fafe fair falutes fame fate fear fecret feems fhade fhall fide fighs fight filence filk fing firſt flame flow foft fome fong foon forrow foul freſh ftill fuch fudden fung fwain fweet grace groves hath heart heav'n himſelf HOBBINOL inſpire itſelf kings laft LANQUET laſt lefs loft lov'd Lycidas maid MICHAEL DRAYTON mind moffy moſt Mufe muft Muſe muſt night numbers Nut-brown Maid nymph o'er paffion paſs paſt pleaſe pleaſure pow'r praiſe purſue raiſe reft reſt rife roſes ſcene ſeen ſhade ſhall ſhape ſhe ſhore ſhould ſhow ſkies ſkill ſky ſome ſpread ſpring ſtate ſtill ſtrain ſtream ſweet tears thee theſe thine thoſe thou thouſand thro Twas uſe verſe Whilft whofe whoſe winds wiſh youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 35 - Sometimes, with secure delight, The upland hamlets will invite, When the merry bells ring round, And the jocund rebecks sound To many a youth and many a maid, Dancing in the chequered shade; And young and old come forth to play On a sunshine holiday, Till the livelong daylight fail...
الصفحة 39 - Swinging slow with sullen roar; Or if the air will not permit, Some still removed place will fit, Where glowing embers through the room Teach light to counterfeit a gloom...
الصفحة 43 - Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear, Compels me to disturb your season due : For Lycidas* is dead, dead ere his prime, Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer : Who would not sing for Lycidas ? He knew Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.
الصفحة 33 - Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful Jollity, Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods and becks, and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek ; Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides.
الصفحة 118 - Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure ; Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure ; Sweet is pleasure after pain. Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain ; Fought all his battles o'er again ; And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain.
الصفحة 46 - O fountain Arethuse, and thou honoured flood, Smooth-sliding Mincius, crowned with vocal reeds, That strain I heard was of a higher mood ! But now my oat proceeds, And listens to the Herald of the Sea That came in Neptune's plea.
الصفحة 44 - For we were nursed upon the self-same hill, Fed the same flock by fountain, shade, and rill. Together both, ere the high lawns appeared Under the opening eyelids of the morn, We drove a-field, and both together heard What time the gray-fly winds her sultry horn...
الصفحة 117 - Flushed with a purple grace He shows his honest face: Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes! Bacchus , ever fair and young , Drinking joys did first ordain : Bacchus...
الصفحة 46 - The air was calm, and on the level brine Sleek Panope with all her sisters played. It was that fatal and perfidious bark, Built in the eclipse, and rigged with curses dark, That sunk so low that sacred head of thine.
الصفحة 49 - Weep no more, woeful shepherds, weep no more, For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead, Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor. So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed. And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore Flames in the forehead of the morning sky...