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 100.
Strana 1
... THOU , Tityrus , lolling ' neath the canopy Of a wide - spreading beech , thy woodland muse Art practising upon the slender straw : We're leaving our patrimony's bourns And charming tilths ; we our native land Line 3-5 . The complaint ...
... THOU , Tityrus , lolling ' neath the canopy Of a wide - spreading beech , thy woodland muse Art practising upon the slender straw : We're leaving our patrimony's bourns And charming tilths ; we our native land Line 3-5 . The complaint ...
Strana 3
... thou , O Tityrus , vouchsafe To us . TITYRUS . The city which they title " Rome , " O Melibœus , I , a simpleton , Deemed like to this of ours , whither oft We shepherds are accustomed to drive down The tender offspring of the ewes . So ...
... thou , O Tityrus , vouchsafe To us . TITYRUS . The city which they title " Rome , " O Melibœus , I , a simpleton , Deemed like to this of ours , whither oft We shepherds are accustomed to drive down The tender offspring of the ewes . So ...
Strana 8
... thou wilt resort , So as I can I will thee comfort ; There mayst thou ligge in a vetchy bed , Till fairer Fortune shew forth his head . " 100 110 113. The young student may be referred to Ec . ix . 50 , where he will see that poma is ...
... thou wilt resort , So as I can I will thee comfort ; There mayst thou ligge in a vetchy bed , Till fairer Fortune shew forth his head . " 100 110 113. The young student may be referred to Ec . ix . 50 , where he will see that poma is ...
Strana 9
... thou ? Naught of pity hast for me ? Thou in the end wilt goad me on to die . Now e'en the cattle shade and cool enjoy ; Now e'en the thorny brakes green lizards shroud ; And Thestylis doth for the reapers , faint With raging heat , bray ...
... thou ? Naught of pity hast for me ? Thou in the end wilt goad me on to die . Now e'en the cattle shade and cool enjoy ; Now e'en the thorny brakes green lizards shroud ; And Thestylis doth for the reapers , faint With raging heat , bray ...
Strana 10
... thou mightst be fair . O lovely boy , trust not too much thy hue : White privets drop , dark martagons are culled . I am disdained by thee ; nor who I am Do you , Alexis , ask ; -how rich in flock , How overflowing in my snowy milk ...
... thou mightst be fair . O lovely boy , trust not too much thy hue : White privets drop , dark martagons are culled . I am disdained by thee ; nor who I am Do you , Alexis , ask ; -how rich in flock , How overflowing in my snowy milk ...
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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.