Specimens of the British Poets: With Biographical and Critical Notices, and an Essay on English PoetryHenry Carey Baird, 1853 - 749 strani |
Iz vsebine knjige
Zadetki 1–5 od 100
Stran 31
... hand , Even for my sake , to spare my Absalom ? And hast thou now , in spite of David's health , And scorn to do my heart some happiness , Given him the sword , and spilt his purple soul ? Joab . What ! irks it David , that he victor ...
... hand , Even for my sake , to spare my Absalom ? And hast thou now , in spite of David's health , And scorn to do my heart some happiness , Given him the sword , and spilt his purple soul ? Joab . What ! irks it David , that he victor ...
Stran 47
... hand in marriage to any champion who shall deliver her brother , a captive of the governor of Ternata . Ruy Dias , her Portuguese lover , is shy of the adventure ; but another lover , Ar- musia , hires a boat , with a few followers ...
... hand in marriage to any champion who shall deliver her brother , a captive of the governor of Ternata . Ruy Dias , her Portuguese lover , is shy of the adventure ; but another lover , Ar- musia , hires a boat , with a few followers ...
Stran 51
... hand as thine , Thy soul is ebbing forth , it shall descend , In flaming drops , upon thee . O ! I faint ! Thou flattering world , farewell . Let princes gather My dust into a glass , and learn to spend Their hour of state - that's all ...
... hand as thine , Thy soul is ebbing forth , it shall descend , In flaming drops , upon thee . O ! I faint ! Thou flattering world , farewell . Let princes gather My dust into a glass , and learn to spend Their hour of state - that's all ...
Stran 73
... hand , By water he sent hem home to every land . But of his craft to reken well his tides , His stremes and his strandès him besides , His herberwe , " his mone , " and his lodemanage , Ther was none swiche , from Hull unto Cartage ...
... hand , By water he sent hem home to every land . But of his craft to reken well his tides , His stremes and his strandès him besides , His herberwe , " his mone , " and his lodemanage , Ther was none swiche , from Hull unto Cartage ...
Stran 78
... hand her pen ygan to quake , And a sharp sword to make her heartè blede , In her left hand her father hath her take , And most her sorrowe was for her childes sake . Upon whose facè in her barme sleepynge Full many a tere she wept in ...
... hand her pen ygan to quake , And a sharp sword to make her heartè blede , In her left hand her father hath her take , And most her sorrowe was for her childes sake . Upon whose facè in her barme sleepynge Full many a tere she wept in ...
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Druge izdaje - Prikaži vse
Pogosti izrazi in povedi
Aret beauty behold Ben Jonson blood Born breast breath bright Canterbury Tales Cham charms Chaucer court dear death delight Died dost doth earth English eyes fair fame fancy fate father fear flame genius give grace grief hand happy hast hath hear heart heaven Hengo honour hope Hudibras king lady language Layamon Leosthenes light live look Lord Lubberkin maid marriage Massinissa Metis mind Mirror for Magistrates Muse nature ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er pain passion pity pleasure poem poet poetical poetry praise pride prince queen racter rise Robert of Gloucester Rodmond Saxon scene Scotland seem'd shade Shakspeare shine sight sing smile soft song soul spirit sweet taste tears tell thee thine things thou art thought trembling truth Twas unto verse virtue wanton whilst wind wings wretch youth
Priljubljeni odlomki
Stran 337 - 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. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired : Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die ! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee, — How...
Stran 262 - GOING TO THE WARS Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
Stran 203 - Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Stran 262 - I With shriller throat shall sing The sweetness, mercy, majesty, And glories of my King; When I shall voice aloud how good He is, how great should be, Enlarged winds, that curl the flood, Know no such liberty.
Stran 281 - That age is best, which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse, and worst Times still succeed the former. Then be not coy, but use your time, And while ye may, go marry: For having lost but once your prime, You may for ever tarry.
Stran 541 - On a rock whose haughty brow Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood, Robed in the sable garb of woe, With haggard eyes the poet stood; (Loose his beard, and hoary hair Stream'd, like a meteor, to the troubled air) And with a master's hand, and prophet's fire, Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre.
Stran 542 - 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.
Stran 311 - And in sweet madness robb'd it of itself; But such a sacred, and home-felt delight, Such sober certainty of waking bliss I never heard till now.
Stran 137 - Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O, no ! it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of...
Stran 352 - Of these the false Achitophel was first, A name to all succeeding ages cursed; For close designs and crooked counsels fit, Sagacious, bold, and turbulent of wit; Restless, unfix'd in principles and place, In power unpleased, impatient of disgrace; A fiery soul, which, working out, its way, Fretted the pigmy body to decay, And o'er-inform'd the tenement of clay.