New Elegant Extracts: A Unique Selection from the Most Eminent British Poets and Poetical Translators, المجلد 2Richard Alfred Davenport C. and C. Whittingham, 1823 |
من داخل الكتاب
النتائج 1-5 من 39
الصفحة 2
... wakes the dawn , With thee I'll climb the steepy lawn , With thee the leafy labyrinths trace , Where dwells the Genius of the place.— His large limbs press a primrose bed , A moss - grown root sustains his head , And , listening to a ...
... wakes the dawn , With thee I'll climb the steepy lawn , With thee the leafy labyrinths trace , Where dwells the Genius of the place.— His large limbs press a primrose bed , A moss - grown root sustains his head , And , listening to a ...
الصفحة 10
... wakes , Opes his gay eye , his plumage shakes , And stretching wide each ebon wing , First in low whispers tries to sing ; Then sounds his clarion loud , and thrills The moonbright lawns and shadowy hills . Silent the choral fays attend ...
... wakes , Opes his gay eye , his plumage shakes , And stretching wide each ebon wing , First in low whispers tries to sing ; Then sounds his clarion loud , and thrills The moonbright lawns and shadowy hills . Silent the choral fays attend ...
الصفحة 11
... waking furies harass guilt ! Oft have I through this solemn glade Of old dismember'd hollies stray'd , Whose bold bare rugged brows are seen Thrust through the mantling evergreen ; Tall clustering columns here ascend , And there in ...
... waking furies harass guilt ! Oft have I through this solemn glade Of old dismember'd hollies stray'd , Whose bold bare rugged brows are seen Thrust through the mantling evergreen ; Tall clustering columns here ascend , And there in ...
الصفحة 20
... wakes the plover on the heath , Ere the sun robs the woodbine's smell , Or dries the foxglove's purple bell , I hear the deep - mouth'd thunder rise : The monarch of the woodland flies , * Eaton Wood , seen from the forest , was the ...
... wakes the plover on the heath , Ere the sun robs the woodbine's smell , Or dries the foxglove's purple bell , I hear the deep - mouth'd thunder rise : The monarch of the woodland flies , * Eaton Wood , seen from the forest , was the ...
الصفحة 28
... wake his sister Gratitude , Shall call on lawns and hills and dells The silent echoes from their cells , Long trains of golden years proclaim , And Needwood ring with Vernon's name . ' He ceased , and shook his hoary brow : Glad murmurs ...
... wake his sister Gratitude , Shall call on lawns and hills and dells The silent echoes from their cells , Long trains of golden years proclaim , And Needwood ring with Vernon's name . ' He ceased , and shook his hoary brow : Glad murmurs ...
المحتوى
118 | |
125 | |
131 | |
139 | |
146 | |
160 | |
171 | |
177 | |
186 | |
192 | |
193 | |
207 | |
273 | |
280 | |
286 | |
290 | |
297 | |
303 | |
310 | |
343 | |
351 | |
358 | |
368 | |
375 | |
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
amid ANNA SEWARD beauty behold beneath bids birds bless'd bliss bloom blush bosom bowers breast breath bright brow CHARLOTTE SMITH charms cheek cheer clouds cold coursers Cupid and Psyche dark deep delight dews doth dream earth fair faithless fancy fear flame flowers fond gale gaze gentle GISBORNE glade gleams glow golden grace green grove hand harp hear heart heaven hills Hinderwell hour Hygeia light lone loud Lubberkin maid melancholy morn mountain Muse Needwood Forest night nymph o'er pale pass'd plain press'd pride rapture rill rise rocks rose round rude Scarborough Castle scene seem'd shade shalt shine sigh silent silvan silver sing skies smile soft song soul spread spring storm stream sweet Thammuz thee thine thou thrice tower Tutbury Castle vale vex'd voice wake wandering wanton warm waves ween wild wind wing woods youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 278 - Come, my Corinna, come; and, coming, mark How each field turns a street, each street a park Made green and trimm'd with trees : see how Devotion gives each house a bough Or branch : each porch, each door ere this An ark, a tabernacle is, Made up of white-thorn neatly interwove; As if here were those cooler shades of love.
الصفحة 307 - The moonshine stealing o'er the scene Had blended with the lights of eve; And she was there, my hope, my joy, My own dear Genevieve! She leaned against the armed man, The statue of the armed knight; She stood and listened to my lay, Amid the lingering light.
الصفحة 127 - Then shakes his powder'd coat, and barks for joy. Heedless of all his pranks, the sturdy churl Moves right toward the mark; nor stops for aught, But now and then with pressure of his thumb To adjust the fragrant charge of a short tube, That fumes beneath his nose : the trailing cloud Streams far behind him, scenting all the air.
الصفحة 91 - Quietly as a sleeping Infant's breath, Send up cold waters to the Traveller With soft and even Pulse ! Nor ever cease Yon tiny Cone of Sand its soundless Dance, Which at the Bottom, like a Fairy's Page, As merry and no taller, dances still, Nor wrinkles the smooth Surface of the Fount. Here Twilight is and Coolness : here is Moss, A soft Seat, and a deep and ample Shade, Thou may'st toil far and find no second Tree.
الصفحة 234 - When to myself I act and smile, With pleasing thoughts the time beguile, By a brook side or wood so green, Unheard, unsought for, or unseen, A thousand pleasures do me bless, And crown my soul with happiness. All my joys besides are folly, None so sweet as melancholy.
الصفحة 188 - You violets that first appear, By your pure purple mantles known Like the proud virgins of the year, As if the spring were all your own; What are you when the rose is blown? 39 So, when my mistress shall be seen In form and beauty of her mind, By virtue first, then choice, a Queen, Tell me, if she were not design'd Th' eclipse and glory of her kind?
الصفحة 144 - O, friendly to the best pursuits of man, Friendly to thought, to virtue, and to peace...
الصفحة 306 - All thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I Live o'er again that happy hour, When midway on the mount I lay, Beside the ruined tower. The moonshine, stealing o'er the scene, Had blended with the lights of eve; And she was there, my hope, my joy, My own dear Genevieve!
الصفحة 188 - You meaner beauties of the night, That poorly satisfy our eyes More by your number than your light, You common people of the skies; What are you when the moon shall rise?
الصفحة 283 - Of rural younglings raise the shout, Pressing before, some coming after: Those with a shout, and these with laughter. Some bless the cart; some kiss the sheaves; Some prank them up with oaken leaves; *° Some...