Ben Jonson to DrydenThomas Humphry Ward Macmillan and Company, 1880 |
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Sida 5
... hands would have been a mere conventional personification ; the short adagio from the Fortunate Isles shows how fully competent he was to marry words to the required movement of dance or song . A longer extract from Pleasure Reconciled ...
... hands would have been a mere conventional personification ; the short adagio from the Fortunate Isles shows how fully competent he was to marry words to the required movement of dance or song . A longer extract from Pleasure Reconciled ...
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... hand here of Love , Wherein my Lady rideth ! Each that draws is a swan or a dove , And well the car Love guideth . As she goes , all hearts do duty Unto her beauty ; And enamoured do wish , so they might But enjoy such a sight , That ...
... hand here of Love , Wherein my Lady rideth ! Each that draws is a swan or a dove , And well the car Love guideth . As she goes , all hearts do duty Unto her beauty ; And enamoured do wish , so they might But enjoy such a sight , That ...
Sida 10
... hands have touched it ? Have you marked but the fall o ' the snow Before the soil hath smutched it ? Have you felt ... hand holds a sun with burning rays , Her left a curious bunch of golden keys , With which heaven's gates she locketh ...
... hands have touched it ? Have you marked but the fall o ' the snow Before the soil hath smutched it ? Have you felt ... hand holds a sun with burning rays , Her left a curious bunch of golden keys , With which heaven's gates she locketh ...
Sida 17
... fry Be taken with false baits Of worded balladry , And think it poësy ? They die with their conceits , And only piteous scorn upon their folly waits . VOL . II . 1. That ' conj . с Then take in hand thy lyre ; Strike in thy BEN JONSON . 17.
... fry Be taken with false baits Of worded balladry , And think it poësy ? They die with their conceits , And only piteous scorn upon their folly waits . VOL . II . 1. That ' conj . с Then take in hand thy lyre ; Strike in thy BEN JONSON . 17.
Sida 18
Thomas Humphry Ward. Then take in hand thy lyre ; Strike in thy proper strain ; With Japhet's line1 aspire Sol's chariot , for new fire To give the world again : Who aided him , will thee , the issue of Jove's brain . And , since our ...
Thomas Humphry Ward. Then take in hand thy lyre ; Strike in thy proper strain ; With Japhet's line1 aspire Sol's chariot , for new fire To give the world again : Who aided him , will thee , the issue of Jove's brain . And , since our ...
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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
Populära avsnitt
Sida 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.
Sida 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.
Sida 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.
Sida 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.
Sida 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.
Sida 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!
Sida 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.
Sida 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.
Sida 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.
Sida 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.