The Elegies of Sextus Propertius, tr. into Engl. verse, with life of the poet and illustr. notes by J. Cranstoun |
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Výsledky 1 - 5 z 26.
Strana 4
... Venus mingles all my nights with gall , And never lets me rest one single hour . I warn you , shun this woe ; nor ever veer From her whose love hath aye been leal and true : If to my voice ye lend a slothful ear , My slighted words how ...
... Venus mingles all my nights with gall , And never lets me rest one single hour . I warn you , shun this woe ; nor ever veer From her whose love hath aye been leal and true : If to my voice ye lend a slothful ear , My slighted words how ...
Strana 25
... Venus frown , be riches far away ! She frowns - great heroes boast their might no more , Down by sore grief the iron soul is weighed : She feareth not to tread the marble floor , Nay , e'en the purple couch she dares invade . Then rolls ...
... Venus frown , be riches far away ! She frowns - great heroes boast their might no more , Down by sore grief the iron soul is weighed : She feareth not to tread the marble floor , Nay , e'en the purple couch she dares invade . Then rolls ...
Strana 32
... Venus ' shrine , And tried to win me back my haughty queen- Though adamant of heart , yet peerless she , I ween ! - Than thus to gaze on shores all waste and wan , Fringed with strange forests ; and the crown of night With sleep ...
... Venus ' shrine , And tried to win me back my haughty queen- Though adamant of heart , yet peerless she , I ween ! - Than thus to gaze on shores all waste and wan , Fringed with strange forests ; and the crown of night With sleep ...
Strana 68
... Venus roamed the fenny plains , * Called the fair youth , and her long tresses spread ; But , Cynthia , thou shalt call my shade in vain , - Mute are the mouldering ashes of the dead . * Illis formosum vocitasse paludibus , illuc ...
... Venus roamed the fenny plains , * Called the fair youth , and her long tresses spread ; But , Cynthia , thou shalt call my shade in vain , - Mute are the mouldering ashes of the dead . * Illis formosum vocitasse paludibus , illuc ...
Strana 74
... Venus ! aid me in my pain , Let sore indulgence waste his strength away . So any one with gifts may purchase love ? O Jove my darling pines for harlot - hire ; For gems she bids me o'er the ocean rove , And bear her home the costly ...
... Venus ! aid me in my pain , Let sore indulgence waste his strength away . So any one with gifts may purchase love ? O Jove my darling pines for harlot - hire ; For gems she bids me o'er the ocean rove , And bear her home the costly ...
Obsah
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Časté výrazy a frázy
Aelius Gallus Alphesiboea Amor arms Bactra Baiae Barth and Kuinoel battle of Actium bear beauty billows Boeotia bones bore breast brow Caesar's Callimachus Catull Catullus charms crown Cynthia daughter dear death doom dread dream e'er editors ELEGY eyes fair fame fate fear fell flame Gallus girl glory gods hair hands Haupt heart Heaven Hertzberg Hippodamia honour Jove Jupiter Keil Lachmann leal lonely love's lovers Lynceus lyre Maecenas maid maiden mihi mistress mother Mount Helicon Mueller reads ne'er neath night o'er once Ovid Paley Parthian Phoebus poet poet's praetor Propert Propertius rocks Roman Rome Rome's round shade shame shore shrine sing song sorrow soul steeds strain stream sweet Tarpeia tears tender Thebes thee Thessaly thine thou thou'lt tibi Tibull Tibullus tomb Tullus Umbria Venus verse Virg vows vulgo wave weary ween weep wine Wratislaw wreath
Populárne pasáže
Strana 217 - Back comes the Chief in triumph. Who, in the hour of fight, Hath seen the Great Twin Brethren In harness on his right. Safe comes the ship to haven, Through billows and through gales, If once the Great Twin Brethren Sit shining on the sails.
Strana 235 - Achaei ? jam pridem Syrus in Tiberim defluxit Orontes, et linguam et mores et cum tibicine chordas obliquas nee non gentilia tympana secum vexit et ad circum jussas prostare puellas...
Strana i - LL.D., Author of a Translation of ' Catullus.' Crown 8vo, 6s. 6d. The Elegies of Sextus Propertius. Translated into English Verse, with Life of the Poet, and Illustrative Notes. Crown 8vo, 7s.
Strana 223 - Accepit vocem lacrimis Lavinia matris Flagrantis perfusa genas, cui plurimus ignem 65 Subjecit rubor, et calefacta per ora cucurrit. Indum sanguineo veluti violaverit ostro Si quis ebur, aut mixta rubent ubi lilia multa Alba rosa : talis virgo dabat ore colores.
Strana 247 - Ergo cum silices, cum dens patientis aratri Depereant aevo, carmina morte carent. Cedant carminibus reges regumque triumphi, Cedat et auriferi ripa benigna Tagi.
Strana 216 - Orphea detinuisse feras et concita dicunt flumina Threicia sustinuisse lyra; saxa Cithaeronis Thebas agitata per artem sponte sua in muri membra coisse ferunt...
Strana 62 - As when we cannot reach the head of statues all too high, We lay a chaplet at the feet, so now perforce do I, Unfit to climb the giddy heights of Epic song divine, In humble adoration lay poor incense on thy shrine ; For not -as yet my Muse hath known the wells of Ascra's grove : Permessus' gentle wave alone hath laved the limbs of Love.
Strana 3 - Why deck thyself with gems and costly dress ? Why mar with trinkets Nature's form divine, And not allow thy beauties forth to shine In all their own, their matchless loveliness ? To thee such aids can add no charms — ah, no ! True love will aye disdain the artist's care. See ! the fair fields a thousand colours wear, And ivy-sprays far best spontaneous grow. Fairer in lonely grots green arbutes rise, Fairer the streamlet wends its wandering way, Lovelier bright pebbles gem their native bay, Sweetlier...
Strana 41 - I'll fill a portly volume with the Coan garment's praise ; Or if her truant tresses wreathe her forehead with caresses, The tresses of her queenly brow demand her poet's lays. Or if, perchance, she strike the speaking lyre with ivory fingers, I marvel how those nimble fingers run the chords along ; Or if above her slumber-drooping eyes a shadow lingers, My tranced mind is sure to find a thousand themes of song. Or if for love's delightful strife repose awhile be broken, Oh, I could write an Iliad...