The Poems of William CollinsH. Frowde, 1907 - 90 sidor |
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Sida 14
... Pow'r and Love ! Go leave the simple Pipe , and Shepherd's Strain ; With Love delight thee , and with Abbas reign ! Be ev'ry Youth , & c . Yet midst the Blaze of Courts she fix'd her Love , On the cool Fountain , or the shady Grove ...
... Pow'r and Love ! Go leave the simple Pipe , and Shepherd's Strain ; With Love delight thee , and with Abbas reign ! Be ev'ry Youth , & c . Yet midst the Blaze of Courts she fix'd her Love , On the cool Fountain , or the shady Grove ...
Sida 22
... Pow'r to please , The Comic Sisters kept their native Ease . With jealous Fear declining Greece beheld Her own Menander's Art almost excell'd ! But ev'ry Muse essay'd to raise in vain Some labour'd Rival of her Tragic Strain : Ilissus ...
... Pow'r to please , The Comic Sisters kept their native Ease . With jealous Fear declining Greece beheld Her own Menander's Art almost excell'd ! But ev'ry Muse essay'd to raise in vain Some labour'd Rival of her Tragic Strain : Ilissus ...
Sida 32
... Pow'r to feel : For not alone he nurs'd the Poet's flame , But reach'd from Virtue's Hand the Patriot's Steel . But who is He whom later Garlands grace , Who left a - while o'er Hybla's Dews to rove , With trembling Eyes thy dreary ...
... Pow'r to feel : For not alone he nurs'd the Poet's flame , But reach'd from Virtue's Hand the Patriot's Steel . But who is He whom later Garlands grace , Who left a - while o'er Hybla's Dews to rove , With trembling Eyes thy dreary ...
Sida 33
... Pow'r , with shudd'ring meek submitted Thought Be mine , to read the Visions old , Which thy awak'ning Bards have told : And lest thou meet my blasted View , Hold each strange Tale devoutly true ; Ne'er be I found , by Thee o'eraw'd ...
... Pow'r , with shudd'ring meek submitted Thought Be mine , to read the Visions old , Which thy awak'ning Bards have told : And lest thou meet my blasted View , Hold each strange Tale devoutly true ; Ne'er be I found , by Thee o'eraw'd ...
Sida 35
... Pow'r , Love , only Love her forceless Numbers mean : For Thou hast left her Shrine , Nor Olive more , nor Vine , Shall gain thy Feet to bless the servile Scene . 8 . Tho ' Taste , tho ' Genius bless , To some divine Excess , Faints the ...
... Pow'r , Love , only Love her forceless Numbers mean : For Thou hast left her Shrine , Nor Olive more , nor Vine , Shall gain thy Feet to bless the servile Scene . 8 . Tho ' Taste , tho ' Genius bless , To some divine Excess , Faints the ...
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Vanliga ord och fraser
Abbas AGIB anecdote ANTISTROPHE Bard blest Bow'r breathe charm Chichester CHICHESTER CATHEDRAL CHICHESTER CROSS Circassia College Collins's Colonel Ross D. G. HOGARTH Death of Colonel delight demyship drest E. V. LUCAS edition Ev'n ev'ry Youth Eyes fair Fancy Fear fix'd Flow'rs fond friends Gentleman's Magazine Gilbert White Grief Grove Hand haunt Heart Heav'n Hour India Paper Introduction Isle John Home John Ragsdale Johnson Joseph Warton Langhorne letter Literary lived London lov'd Love Maid memoir midst Mind mourn Muse Music ne'er Numbers Nymph o'er Oxford India Paper Passions Payne Peace Persian Eclogues Pity Plains poems poet Poet's Poetical poetry portrait pour'd Pow'r published Rage reprinted round rove Scene SECANDER Sempill Shade Shepherds Shrine Sir Thomas Hanmer sister Song Sophocles Sound stanza sung Swain sweet Tears Thee Thomas Warton thou thought thro Toil Vale wild William Collins Winchester Wizzard WORDSWORTH written
Populära avsnitt
Sida 51 - O'erhang his wavy bed: Now air is hush'd save where the weak-eyed bat With short shrill shriek flits by on leathern wing, Or where the beetle winds His small but sullen horn, As oft he rises, 'midst the twilight path Against the pilgrim borne in heedless hum...
Sida 58 - The doubling drum with furious heat; And, though sometimes, each dreary pause between. Dejected Pity at his side Her soul-subduing voice applied, Yet still he kept his wild unalter'd mien, While each strain'd ball of sight seem'd bursting from his head.
Sida 59 - Joy's ecstatic trial; He with viny crown advancing, First to the lively pipe his hand addrest; But soon he saw the brisk awakening viol, Whose sweet entrancing voice he loved the best.
Sida 59 - Pour'd through the mellow horn her pensive soul ; And dashing soft from rocks around, Bubbling runnels join'd the sound ; Through glades and glooms the mingled measure stole, Or, o'er some haunted stream, with fond delay, Round a holy calm diffusing, Love of peace, and lonely musing, In hollow murmurs died away.
Sida 52 - midst its dreary dells, Whose walls more awful nod By thy religious gleams ! Or if chill blust'ring winds, or driving rain, Prevent my willing feet ; be mine the hut That, from the mountain's side, Views wilds, and swelling floods, And hamlets brown, and dim-discovered spires ! And hears their simple bell ! and marks o'er all Thy dewy fingers draw The gradual dusky veil...
Sida 65 - To fair Fidele's grassy tomb Soft maids and village hinds shall bring Each opening sweet of earliest bloom, And rifle all the breathing spring. No wailing ghost shall dare appear To vex with shrieks this quiet grove: But shepherd lads assemble here, And melting virgins own their love.
Sida 57 - When Music, heavenly maid, was young, While yet in early Greece she sung, The Passions oft, to hear her shell, Thronged around her magic cell...
Sida 69 - For him in vain his anxious wife shall wait, Or wander forth to meet him on his way; For him in vain, at to-fall of the day, His babes shall linger at. th' unclosing gate: Ah, ne'er shall he.
Sida xvi - ... both writers of Odes ? it is odd enough, but each is the half of a considerable man, and one the counterpart of the other. The first has but little invention, very poetical choice of expression, and a good ear. The second, a fine fancy, modelled upon the antique, a bad ear, great variety of words, and images with no choice at all. They both deserve to last some years, but will not.
Sida 51 - For when thy folding-star arising shows His paly circlet, at his warning lamp The fragrant Hours, and Elves Who slept in buds the day, And many a Nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge, And sheds the freshening dew, and, lovelier still, The pensive pleasures sweet, Prepare thy shadowy car. Then let me rove some wild and heathy scene, Or find some ruin 'midst its dreary dells, Whose walls more awful nod By thy religious gleams.