Poems by Mr. GrayJ. Dodsley, 1768 - 119 sidor |
Från bokens innehåll
Resultat 1-5 av 7
Sida 59
... weave with bloody hands the tiffue of thy line . ' PAs dear to me as are the ruddy drops , That vifit my fad heart- 4 See the Norwegian Ode , that follows . Shakefp . Jul . Cæfar , II . I. " Weave the warp , and weave II . I. A PINDARIC ...
... weave with bloody hands the tiffue of thy line . ' PAs dear to me as are the ruddy drops , That vifit my fad heart- 4 See the Norwegian Ode , that follows . Shakefp . Jul . Cæfar , II . I. " Weave the warp , and weave II . I. A PINDARIC ...
Sida 60
Thomas Gray. II . I. " Weave the warp , and weave the woof , " The winding - sheet of Edward's race , " Give ample room , and verge enough " The characters of hell to trace . " Mark the year , and mark the night , " When Severn fhall re ...
Thomas Gray. II . I. " Weave the warp , and weave the woof , " The winding - sheet of Edward's race , " Give ample room , and verge enough " The characters of hell to trace . " Mark the year , and mark the night , " When Severn fhall re ...
Sida 66
... ( Weave we the woof . The thread is spun ) " Half of thy heart we confecrate . cc ( The web is wove . The work is done . ” . Stay , oh ftay ! nor thus forlorn Leave me unblefs'd , unpitied , here to mourn : * Eleanor of Caftile died a few ...
... ( Weave we the woof . The thread is spun ) " Half of thy heart we confecrate . cc ( The web is wove . The work is done . ” . Stay , oh ftay ! nor thus forlorn Leave me unblefs'd , unpitied , here to mourn : * Eleanor of Caftile died a few ...
Sida 80
... Weaving many a Soldier's doom , Orkney's woe , and Randver's bane , See the griefly texture grow , ( ' Tis of human entrails made , ) And the weights , that play below , Each a gafping Warriour's head . Shafts for fhuttles , dipt in ...
... Weaving many a Soldier's doom , Orkney's woe , and Randver's bane , See the griefly texture grow , ( ' Tis of human entrails made , ) And the weights , that play below , Each a gafping Warriour's head . Shafts for fhuttles , dipt in ...
Sida 81
... meet , Hauberk crash , and helmet ring . ( Weave the crimson web of war ) Let us go , and let us fly , Where our Friends the conflict share , Where they triumph , where they die . G As As the paths of fate we tread , Wading thro AN OD E.
... meet , Hauberk crash , and helmet ring . ( Weave the crimson web of war ) Let us go , and let us fly , Where our Friends the conflict share , Where they triumph , where they die . G As As the paths of fate we tread , Wading thro AN OD E.
Andra upplagor - Visa alla
Vanliga ord och fraser
Æolian arife art thou beneath breath Cæfar Cambria's chear cloſe crimſon Death Denmark Deſpair doom dread dreft drop'd Dryden's Earl Edward Eirin ETON COLLEGE eyes fable fate fecret feen fend fhade fhaggy fhall fhame fince fing firft flaughter fleep folemn fome fong forrow foul fpirit fteep ftill ftream fublime glitt'ring glory Goddeſs griefly hafty hand Hark harmony Hauberk heart Heav'n Henry the Sixth Hoder's Italy King lance Lefs loft Lord Love lyre Maid Milton's Paradife Mufe ne'er night NORTH-WALES numbers o'er Odin OWEN Paffions pain Petrarch PINDARIC ODE pleaſure Poetry purple purſues Quarto refts regardleſs reign repofe rifing rill rofe ſay ſeen ſhade Shakeſpear ſhall ſhare ſhe Sifters ſmile Snowdon ſoft ſpeed ſpread ſpring ſtate ſtrains ſweet Talieffin taſte tear thee theſe Thofe thou thro trembling triumph vale voice wave Weave Welch Where'er whofe youth
Populära avsnitt
Sida 119 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath and near his favourite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; 'The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou can'st read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Sida 112 - Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the Poor. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave Await alike th' inevitable hour : — The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Sida 109 - THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Sida 62 - Fair laughs the Morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes: Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm: Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That hush'd in grim repose expects his evening prey.
Sida 111 - The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Sida 47 - This pencil take (she said) whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year : Thine, too, these golden keys, immortal Boy ! This can unlock the gates of Joy ; Of Horror that, and thrilling Fears, Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic Tears.
Sida 5 - Where'er the oak's thick branches stretch A broader, browner shade, Where'er the rude and moss-grown beech O'er-canopies the glade, Beside some water's rushy brink With me the Muse shall sit, and think (At ease...
Sida 25 - Th' unfeeling for his own. Yet ah ! why should they know their fate ? Since sorrow never comes too late, And happiness too swiftly flies. Thought would destroy their paradise. No more ; where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.
Sida 20 - Gainst graver hours, that bring constraint To sweeten liberty: Some bold adventurers disdain The limits of their little reign And unknown regions dare descry: Still as they run they look behind, They hear a voice in every wind, And snatch a fearful joy.
Sida 38 - Awake, /Eolian lyre, awake, And give to rapture all thy trembling strings. From Helicon's harmonious springs A thousand rills their mazy progress take ; The laughing flowers, that round them blow, Drink life and fragrance as they flow. Now the rich stream of music winds along, Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong, Through verdant vales, and Ceres...