The British anthology; or, Poetical library, Volúmenes7-8 |
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Página 19
... fates that dwell In cloister'd air tainted with steaming life , Let lofty ceilings grace your ample rooms ; And still at azure noontide may your dome At every window drink the liquid sky . Need we the sunny situation here , And theatres ...
... fates that dwell In cloister'd air tainted with steaming life , Let lofty ceilings grace your ample rooms ; And still at azure noontide may your dome At every window drink the liquid sky . Need we the sunny situation here , And theatres ...
Página 33
... fate Was ripe old age , and rather sleep than death . O ! could those worthies , from the world of gods , Return to visit their degenerate sons , How would they scorn the joys of modern time , With all our art and toil improved to pain ...
... fate Was ripe old age , and rather sleep than death . O ! could those worthies , from the world of gods , Return to visit their degenerate sons , How would they scorn the joys of modern time , With all our art and toil improved to pain ...
Página 36
... fates . For know , whate'er Beyond its natural fervour hurries on The sanguine tide ; whether the frequent bowl , High - season'd fare , or exercise to toil Protracted ; spurs to its last stage tired life , And sows the temples with ...
... fates . For know , whate'er Beyond its natural fervour hurries on The sanguine tide ; whether the frequent bowl , High - season'd fare , or exercise to toil Protracted ; spurs to its last stage tired life , And sows the temples with ...
Página 38
... fates of Troy relate ; And Homer live immortal as his song . What does not fade ? The tower that long had stood The crush of thunder and the warring winds , Shook by the slow but sure destroyer Time , Now hangs in doubtful ruins o'er ...
... fates of Troy relate ; And Homer live immortal as his song . What does not fade ? The tower that long had stood The crush of thunder and the warring winds , Shook by the slow but sure destroyer Time , Now hangs in doubtful ruins o'er ...
Página 43
... fates Engaged , and all that strikes humanity : Till lost in fable , they the stealing hour Of timely rest forget . Sometimes , at eve His neighbours lift the latch , and bless unbid His festal roof ; while , o'er the light repast , And ...
... fates Engaged , and all that strikes humanity : Till lost in fable , they the stealing hour Of timely rest forget . Sometimes , at eve His neighbours lift the latch , and bless unbid His festal roof ; while , o'er the light repast , And ...
Términos y frases comunes
Amang Aspasio auld auld lang syne bard beneath birks of Aberfeldy blast blate blithe blood bloom bonnie bosom braes brave breast breath BRIG charms chyle Cutty-sark dear dearie death deil delight ev'n fair fame fancy Farewell fate fear flowers frae Gilpin grace green groves Halloween hear heart Heaven hope hour ilka JOHN GILPIN JOHN SHARPE labour lass lassie life's lo'es mair Mary maun mind mony morning mourn Muse Nature's ne'er never night numbers o'er owre pain peace pleasure poor pride rage roar round scenes seem'd shade shine sing skies smile song soon soul spring stream sugh sweet TAM O'SHANTER taste tears tender thee There's thine thou toil TUNE-The Twas wander waste wave weary weel Whyles wild winds winter wretch young Jessie youth
Pasajes populares
Página 8 - Then kneeling down to Heaven's Eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays; Hope 'springs exulting on triumphant wing,' That thus they all shall meet in future days, There ever bask in uncreated rays, No more to sigh or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise, In such society, yet still more dear, While circling Time moves round in an eternal sphere.
Página 7 - Like streamer long and gay, Till loop and button failing both, At last it flew away. Then might all people well discern The bottles he had slung, A bottle swinging at each side As hath been said or sung. The dogs did bark, the children screamed, Up flew the windows all, And every soul cried out, Well done ! As loud as he could bawl.
Página 12 - I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day, I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away, And, turning from my nursery window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu ! But was it such ? It was. Where thou art gone Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown : May I but meet thee on that peaceful shore, The parting word shall pass my lips no more...
Página 12 - Dupe of to-morrow even from a child. Thus many a sad to-morrow came and went, Till, all my stock of infant sorrow spent, I learned at last submission to my lot ; But, though I less deplored thee, ne'er forgot. Where once we dwelt our name is heard no more, Children not thine have trod my nursery floor ; And where the gardener Robin, day by day, Drew me to school along the public way, Delighted with my bauble coach, and wrapped In scarlet mantle warm, and velvet capped, Tis now become a history little...
Página 33 - I'm truly sorry man's dominion. Has broken nature's social union, An' justifies that ill opinion, Which makes thee startle At me, thy poor earth-born companion, An...
Página 33 - How fleet is a glance of the mind! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there; But alas! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair.
Página 9 - Inclined to tarry there ; For why ? — his owner had a house Full ten miles off, at Ware. So like an arrow swift he flew, Shot by an archer strong ; So did he fly — which brings me to The middle of my song. Away went Gilpin out of breath, And sore against his will, Till at his friend the calender's His horse at last stood still.
Página 30 - Thy snawie bosom sun-ward spread, Thou lifts thy unassuming head In humble guise; But now the share uptears thy bed, And low thou lies! Such is the fate of artless maid, Sweet floweret of the rural shade ! By love's simplicity betray'd, And guileless trust, Till she, like thee, all soil'd, is laid Low i
Página 29 - His sword was in its sheath, His fingers held the pen, When Kempenfelt went down With twice four hundred men. — Weigh the vessel up Once dreaded by our foes! And mingle with our cup The tears that England owes. Her timbers yet are sound, And she may float again Full charged with England's thunder, And plough the distant main: But Kempenfelt is gone, His victories are o'er; And he and his eight hundred Shall plough the wave no more.
Página 30 - Unskilful he to note the card Of prudent lore, Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, And whelm him o'er! Such fate to suffering worth is...