The works of Virgil, closely rendered into Engl. rhythm and illustr. from British poets by R.C. Singleton, Zväzok 1 |
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Výsledky 1 - 5 z 46.
Strana 33
... fell death , the nymphs did Daphnis weep . Ye [ were ] the witnesses , O hazel - shrubs And rivers , for the nymphs , when clasping round The pitiable body of her son , Both gods and stars the mother felon calls . Line 25. See Milton's ...
... fell death , the nymphs did Daphnis weep . Ye [ were ] the witnesses , O hazel - shrubs And rivers , for the nymphs , when clasping round The pitiable body of her son , Both gods and stars the mother felon calls . Line 25. See Milton's ...
Strana 41
... fell on the ground tantum , merely , without receiving any damage . However , he succeeded in making his way so far , that the distance which he had staggered might be designated by procul . Here he fell , or , finding his inability to ...
... fell on the ground tantum , merely , without receiving any damage . However , he succeeded in making his way so far , that the distance which he had staggered might be designated by procul . Here he fell , or , finding his inability to ...
Strana 53
... fell distraction carried me away ! Begin with me , my pipe , Manalian strains . Now know I what is Love : on flinty crags Him doth or Tmaros , or doth Rhodope , Or do the utmost Garamants , an imp 40 50 Nor of our breed , nor of our ...
... fell distraction carried me away ! Begin with me , my pipe , Manalian strains . Now know I what is Love : on flinty crags Him doth or Tmaros , or doth Rhodope , Or do the utmost Garamants , an imp 40 50 Nor of our breed , nor of our ...
Strana 54
... Fell Love taught , & c . You , mother , were barbarous as well as he ( Love ) . Was the mother the more barbarous , or that wicked boy ? That wicked boy was ( more barbarous ) ; you , mother , were bar- barous too , ( though he more so ) ...
... Fell Love taught , & c . You , mother , were barbarous as well as he ( Love ) . Was the mother the more barbarous , or that wicked boy ? That wicked boy was ( more barbarous ) ; you , mother , were bar- barous too , ( though he more so ) ...
Strana 85
... fell . year . Nor [ is it ] without purpose [ that ] we watch The settings and the risings of the signs , And , equal with its seasons four distinct , the If the cold shower e'er confines the swain , Things many , which would have to be ...
... fell . year . Nor [ is it ] without purpose [ that ] we watch The settings and the risings of the signs , And , equal with its seasons four distinct , the If the cold shower e'er confines the swain , Things many , which would have to be ...
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Časté výrazy a frázy
Æneas Æneid altars amid Amyntas Anchises Annus Mirabilis Arethuse arms Ascanius Bacchus bear bees behold beneath billows blood breath Cæsar Ceres clouds Corydon Creusa Daphnis death deep Dido dost doth dread Dryden e'en earth Eclogue eyes Faerie Queene fane fates fear fields fire flames flock flood forests gales Georgic goddess gods gold Greeks groan grove hand hath heaven Helenus hence Iulus Jove king land light Line lofty Lycidas MENALCAS mighty Milton mind MOPSUS mountains Mycena neath night o'er Paradise Lost plain poet Priam prose race rage realm render rocks round scarce seems shade Shakspeare shalt shores sing sire sleep sooth soul Spenser spring stars steeds storm stream swains sweet tears Teucrians thee thou tilths Tityrus toil translation trees Trojan Troy Tyrians unto verses vine Virgil waves wight wild winds wings woods words wretched youth
Populárne pasáže
Strana 355 - The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold; Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were love-sick with them; the oars were silver, Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water which "they beat to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes.
Strana 180 - How many thousand of my poorest subjects Are at this hour asleep ! — O Sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness ? Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber ; Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great...
Strana 55 - Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimm'd The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds, And 'twixt the green sea and the azured vault Set roaring war...
Strana vi - I had rather be a kitten, and cry mew, Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers ; I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn'd, Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree ; And that would set my teeth nothing on edge, Nothing so much as mincing poetry ; — 'Tis like the forc'd gait of a shuffling nag.
Strana 311 - Thus much of this, will make Black, white; foul, fair; wrong, right; Base, noble; old, young; coward, valiant. Ha, you gods ! why this ? What this, you gods ? Why this Will lug your priests and servants from your sides ; Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads: This yellow slave Will knit and break religions; bless the accurs'd; Make the hoar leprosy ador'd ; place thieves, And give them title, knee, and approbation, With senators on the bench...
Strana 194 - Where some, like magistrates, correct at home, Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the...
Strana 351 - To-day, my lord of Amiens and myself Did steal behind him, as he lay along Under an oak whose antique root peeps out Upon the brook that brawls along this wood : To the which place a poor sequester'd stag, That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt...
Strana 120 - This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war, This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands, This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England...
Strana 101 - The night has been unruly : where we lay, Our chimneys were blown down ; and, as they say, Lamentings heard i...
Strana 232 - To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in Heaven. As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.