The Works of John Dryden: Now First Collected in Eighteen Volumes. Illustrated with Notes, Historical, Critical, and Explanatory, and a Life of the Author, Zväzok 11William Miller, 1808 |
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Výsledky 1 - 5 z 56.
Strana 4
... praise of thee.- Reader , I've done , nor longer will withhold Thy greedy eyes ; looking on this pure gold , Thou it know adulterate copper : which , like this , Will only serve to be a foil to his . EPISTLE THE SECOND . TO MY HONOURED ...
... praise of thee.- Reader , I've done , nor longer will withhold Thy greedy eyes ; looking on this pure gold , Thou it know adulterate copper : which , like this , Will only serve to be a foil to his . EPISTLE THE SECOND . TO MY HONOURED ...
Strana 6
... praise the verses of his pa- tron , on account of that absence of extravagant metaphor , and that sobriety of poetic composition , for which , to judge by his own immediate practice , he ought rather to have censured them . Those who ...
... praise the verses of his pa- tron , on account of that absence of extravagant metaphor , and that sobriety of poetic composition , for which , to judge by his own immediate practice , he ought rather to have censured them . Those who ...
Strana 10
... praise just when he was visibly restoring to power , did not the reading of the Panegyric vindicate the writing of it , and , besides my affirma- tion , assure the reader , it was written when the king deserved the praise as much as now ...
... praise just when he was visibly restoring to power , did not the reading of the Panegyric vindicate the writing of it , and , besides my affirma- tion , assure the reader , it was written when the king deserved the praise as much as now ...
Strana 19
... had more wit , The censure of every man did disdain ; Pleading some pitiful rhymes he had writ In praise of the Countess of Castlemain . Session of the Poets , 1670 . EPISTLE THE FOURTH . As seamen , shipwrecked on some EPISTLES . 19.
... had more wit , The censure of every man did disdain ; Pleading some pitiful rhymes he had writ In praise of the Countess of Castlemain . Session of the Poets , 1670 . EPISTLE THE FOURTH . As seamen , shipwrecked on some EPISTLES . 19.
Strana 20
... praise despise , Fame is the trumpet , but your smile the prize . You sit above , and see vain men below Contend for what you only can bestow ; But those great actions others do by chance , Are , like your beauty , your inheritance : So ...
... praise despise , Fame is the trumpet , but your smile the prize . You sit above , and see vain men below Contend for what you only can bestow ; But those great actions others do by chance , Are , like your beauty , your inheritance : So ...
Iné vydania - Zobraziť všetky
The Works of John Dryden: Now First Collected in Eighteen Volumes ..., Zväzok 11 John Dryden Úplné zobrazenie - 1808 |
Časté výrazy a frázy
ANNE KILLIGREW Arcite arms beauty behold betwixt blood Boccacio breast called Canterbury Tales Chanticleer charms Chaucer coursers crown Cymon dame death divine dream Dryden Duke Emily EPISTLE eyes fair fame fate father favour fear fight fire fortune gave grace grief Guiscard hand happy hast heart heaven honour JOHN DRYDEN kind king knew knight KNIGHT'S TALE lady laurel light live look lord lover Lysimachus maid mind mortal mourning muse never noble numbers o'er once Ovid pain Palamon panegyric play pleased pleasure poem poet poetry praise prince pursue queen race rest seems shewed sighed sight Sir George Etherege Sir Robert Howard soul stood sung sweet tale Tancred tears Thebes thee Theseus thine thing thou thought took translated Twas verses Virgil virtue vows wife Wife of Bath words youth
Populárne pasáže
Strana 188 - At last divine Cecilia came, Inventress of the vocal frame ; The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, Enlarg'd the former narrow bounds, And added length to solemn sounds, With nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before. Let old Timotheus yield the prize, Or both divide the crown ; He raised a mortal to the skies, She drew an angel down.
Strana 183 - Twas at the royal feast for Persia won By Philip's warlike son : Aloft in awful state The godlike hero sate On his imperial throne...
Strana 99 - FAREWELL, too little, and too lately known, Whom I began to think and call my own: For sure our souls were near allied, and thine Cast in the same poetic mould with mine.
Strana 187 - Now strike the golden lyre again ; A louder yet, and yet a louder strain. Break his bands of sleep asunder, And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark, hark, the horrid sound Has raised up his head ; As awaked from the dead, And amazad, he stares around. Revenge, revenge...
Strana 167 - From harmony, from heavenly harmony, This universal frame began : When Nature underneath a heap Of jarring atoms lay, And could not heave her head, The tuneful voice was heard from high, Arise, ye more than dead.
Strana 207 - Milton was the poetical son of Spenser, and Mr. Waller of Fairfax ; for we have our lineal descents and clans, as well as other families. Spenser more than once insinuates that the soul of Chaucer was transfused into his body, and that he was begotten by him two hundred years after his decease.
Strana 185 - Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure : Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain. Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain; Fought all his battles o'er again, And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain...
Strana 190 - Thrice holy Fount, thrice holy Fire, Our hearts with heavenly love inspire: Come, and Thy sacred unction bring, To sanctify us while we sing.
Strana 191 - Chase from our minds the infernal foe, And peace, the fruit of love, bestow ; And, lest our feet should step astray, Protect and guide us in the way. Make us eternal truths receive, And practise all that we believe : Give us thyself, that we may see The Father, and the Son, by thee. Immortal honour, endless fame, Attend the...
Strana 186 - On the bare earth exposed he lies, With not a friend to close his eyes. With downcast looks the joyless victor sate, Revolving in his altered soul The various turns of Chance below ; And, now and then, a sigh he stole, And tears began to flow.