Churchill, 1764, to Johnson, 1784Thomas Campbell J. Murray, 1819 |
Iz vsebine knjige
Zadetki 1–5 od 14
Stran 164
... for aie . " Then Canterlone hee dydd goe out , To telle the maior straite To gett all thynges ynne reddyness For goode Syr Charleses fate . Thenne Maisterr Canynge saughte the kynge , And felle down 164 THOMAS CHATTERTON .
... for aie . " Then Canterlone hee dydd goe out , To telle the maior straite To gett all thynges ynne reddyness For goode Syr Charleses fate . Thenne Maisterr Canynge saughte the kynge , And felle down 164 THOMAS CHATTERTON .
Stran 166
... Ynne alle thys mortall state . " Lett mercie rule thyne infante reigne , ' Twylle faste thye crowne fulle sure ... ynne enemies . " " Canynge , awaie ! By Godde ynne heav'n , 166 THOMAS CHATTERTON .
... Ynne alle thys mortall state . " Lett mercie rule thyne infante reigne , ' Twylle faste thye crowne fulle sure ... ynne enemies . " " Canynge , awaie ! By Godde ynne heav'n , 166 THOMAS CHATTERTON .
Stran 167
Thomas Campbell. " Canynge , awaie ! By Godde ynne heav'n , Thatt dydd mee being gyve , I wylle nott taste a bitt of breade Whilst thys Syr Charles dothe lyve . " By Marie , and alle Seinctes ynne heav'n , Thys sunne shall be hys laste ...
Thomas Campbell. " Canynge , awaie ! By Godde ynne heav'n , Thatt dydd mee being gyve , I wylle nott taste a bitt of breade Whilst thys Syr Charles dothe lyve . " By Marie , and alle Seinctes ynne heav'n , Thys sunne shall be hys laste ...
Stran 168
... ynne battaile have I stoode , Whan thousands dy'd arounde ; Whan smokynge streemes of crimson bloode Imbrew'd the fatten'd grounde : " Howe dydd I knowe thatt ev'ry darte , Thatt cutte the airie waie , Myghte nott fynde passage toe my ...
... ynne battaile have I stoode , Whan thousands dy'd arounde ; Whan smokynge streemes of crimson bloode Imbrew'd the fatten'd grounde : " Howe dydd I knowe thatt ev'ry darte , Thatt cutte the airie waie , Myghte nott fynde passage toe my ...
Stran 169
... Ynne Londonne citye was I borne , Of parents of grete note ; My fadre dydd a nobile armes Emblazon onne hys cote : " I make ne doubte butt hee ys gone Where soone I hope to goe ; Where wee for ever shall bee blest , From oute the reech ...
... Ynne Londonne citye was I borne , Of parents of grete note ; My fadre dydd a nobile armes Emblazon onne hys cote : " I make ne doubte butt hee ys gone Where soone I hope to goe ; Where wee for ever shall bee blest , From oute the reech ...
Pogosti izrazi in povedi
ANTISTROPHE beauty behold beneath blest bliss bloom BORN bosom brave breast breath charms dear death delight dreadful dydd e'er earth eternal Eulogius ev'ry fair fame fancy fate fear frae FRANCIS FAWKES genius GEORGE ALEXANDER STEVENS grief hand hear heart Heaven honour hour human JAMES GRAINGER kynge labour Lord mild ale mind MONODY mournful nature nature's night Night Thoughts numbers o'er pain pale Palemon passions PAUL WHITEHEAD peace plain pleasure poem poet poetical poetry poor pow'r praise pride rage reign rise Rodmond round scene Selim shade shore skies sleep smile soft song soul spread swain sweet SWEET Auburn Syr Charles tears tender Thatt thee Thenne thine THOMAS CHATTERTON thou thought toil train trembling university of Edinburgh vale verse virtue voice wave wealth wild wings wretch wyfe wylle Wyth ynne youth
Priljubljeni odlomki
Stran 284 - Wept o'er his wounds or tales of sorrow done, Shouldered his crutch, and showed how fields were won. Pleased with his guests, the good man learned to glow, And quite forgot their vices in their woe ; Careless their merits or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began.
Stran 285 - At church, with meek and unaffected grace, His looks adorn'd the venerable place ; Truth from his lips prevail'd with double sway, And fools who came to scoff, remain'd to pray.
Stran 290 - And pinch'd with cold, and shrinking from the shower, With heavy heart deplores that luckless hour, When idly first, ambitious of the town, She left her wheel and robes of country brown.
Stran 291 - That call'd them from their native walks away ; When the poor exiles, every pleasure past, Hung round the bowers, and fondly...
Stran 286 - The village master taught his little school. A man severe he was, and stern to view, I knew him well, and every truant knew : Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace The day's disasters in his morning face ; Full well they laughed with counterfeited glee At all his jokes, for many a joke had he ; Full well the busy whisper circling round, Conveyed the dismal tidings when he frowned.
Stran 191 - Cold is Cadwallo's tongue, That hush'd the stormy main : Brave Urien sleeps upon his craggy bed : Mountains, ye mourn in vain Modred, whose magic song Made huge Plinlimmon bow his cloudtopt head. On dreary Arvon's shore they lie, Smear'd with gore, and ghastly pale : Far, far aloof th' affrighted ravens sail ; The famish'd eagle screams, and passes by.
Stran 440 - Nor think the doom of man revers'd for thee; Deign on the passing world to turn thine eyes, And pause awhile from letters, to be wise; There mark what ills the scholar's life assail, Toil, envy, want, the patron, and the jail. See nations slowly wise, and meanly just, To buried merit raise the tardy bust.
Stran 288 - Ye friends to truth, ye statesmen, who survey The rich man's joys increase, the poor's decay, 'T is yours to judge, how wide the limits stand Between a splendid and a happy land.
Stran 47 - TIRED Nature's sweet restorer, balmy Sleep ! He, like the world, his ready visit pays Where Fortune smiles ; the wretched he forsakes ; Swift on his downy pinion flies from woe, And lights on lids unsullied with a tear.
Stran 287 - Thither no more the peasant shall repair, To sweet oblivion of his daily care ; No more the farmer's news, the barber's tale...