Dublin Translations Into Greek and Latin VerseRobert Yelverton Tyrrell Hodges Figgis, 1890 - 519 strán (strany) |
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Výsledky 1 - 5 z 36.
Strana xi
... hands Well , though it torture me , ' tis but the same What if this cursed hand • • SHAKSPEARE 178 REV . VII . 1-3 182 VIRGIL 184 • SCHILLER 188 SHAKSPEARE 190 РОРЕ 194 BEAUMONT 196 SHAKSPEARE 198 GRANT 200 • SYMONDS 204 ISAIAH 210 ...
... hands Well , though it torture me , ' tis but the same What if this cursed hand • • SHAKSPEARE 178 REV . VII . 1-3 182 VIRGIL 184 • SCHILLER 188 SHAKSPEARE 190 РОРЕ 194 BEAUMONT 196 SHAKSPEARE 198 GRANT 200 • SYMONDS 204 ISAIAH 210 ...
Strana xii
... hand Moral improvement Oh , the praties they are small Now all these charms , that beauteous grace In Beauty or Wit PAGE HERRICK 268 BURNS 270 DONNE 272 LYRA ANGL . 274 SHAKSPEARE 276 THOMPSON 280 MOORE 282 WORDSWORTH 284 SHAKSPEARE 286 ...
... hand Moral improvement Oh , the praties they are small Now all these charms , that beauteous grace In Beauty or Wit PAGE HERRICK 268 BURNS 270 DONNE 272 LYRA ANGL . 274 SHAKSPEARE 276 THOMPSON 280 MOORE 282 WORDSWORTH 284 SHAKSPEARE 286 ...
Strana xii
... hand Moral improvement Oh, the praties they are small - - Now all these charms, that beauteous grace . In Beauty or Wit passe HERRICK 268 BURNS 270 DoNNE 272 LYRA ANGL. 274 SHAKSPEARE 276 THOMPSON 280 MooRE 282 WoRDSworTH 2.84 ...
... hand Moral improvement Oh, the praties they are small - - Now all these charms, that beauteous grace . In Beauty or Wit passe HERRICK 268 BURNS 270 DoNNE 272 LYRA ANGL. 274 SHAKSPEARE 276 THOMPSON 280 MooRE 282 WoRDSworTH 2.84 ...
Strana 10
... hand . Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale ! Light thickens ; and the crow Makes wing to the rooky wood : Good things of day begin to droop and drowse , Whiles night's black agents to their preys do rouse ...
... hand . Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale ! Light thickens ; and the crow Makes wing to the rooky wood : Good things of day begin to droop and drowse , Whiles night's black agents to their preys do rouse ...
Strana 22
... hand From the first opening bud , and gave ye names ! Who now shall rear ye to the sun , or rank Your tribes , and water from the ambrosial fount ? ΚΑΙ ΧΑΙΡΕ . οἶμ ̓ ὡς ἀέλπτῳ , καιρίας ὑπερτέραν πληγεῖσα 22 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS . EVE'S ...
... hand From the first opening bud , and gave ye names ! Who now shall rear ye to the sun , or rank Your tribes , and water from the ambrosial fount ? ΚΑΙ ΧΑΙΡΕ . οἶμ ̓ ὡς ἀέλπτῳ , καιρίας ὑπερτέραν πληγεῖσα 22 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS . EVE'S ...
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Strana 182 - AND after these things I saw four angels standing on the four corners of the earth, holding the four winds of the earth, that the wind should not blow on the earth, nor on the sea, nor on any tree.
Strana 426 - The world's great age begins anew, The golden years return, The earth doth like a snake renew Her winter weeds outworn: Heaven smiles, and faiths and empires gleam Like wrecks of a dissolving dream.
Strana 84 - gainst self-slaughter! O God! O God! How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fie on't! ah, fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature, Possess it merely.
Strana 94 - The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks ; The long day wanes ; the slow moon climbs ; the deep Moans round with many voices.
Strana 202 - Thy bountiful care, what tongue can recite? It breathes in the air, it shines in the light, It streams from the hills, it descends to the plain, And sweetly distils in the dew and the rain.
Strana 498 - Come lovely and soothing death, Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving, In the day, in the night, to all, to each, Sooner or later delicate death.
Strana 504 - Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill: But their strong nerves at last must yield; They tame but one another still: Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath, When they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow, Then boast no more your mighty deeds; Upon Death's purple altar now See, where the victor-victim bleeds: Your heads must come To the cold tomb; Only the actions of the just Smell sweet, and blossom...
Strana 46 - And rising bore him thro' the place of tombs. But, as he walk'd, King Arthur panted hard, Like one that feels a nightmare on his bed When all the house is mute. So sigh'd the King, Muttering and murmuring at his ear, 'Quick, quick ! I fear it is too late, and I shall die.
Strana 250 - And even the bare-worn common is denied. If to the city sped — what waits him there? To see profusion that he must not share ; To see ten thousand baneful arts combined To pamper luxury, and thin mankind; To see those joys the sons of pleasure know Extorted from his fellow-creature's woe.
Strana 390 - All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody sun, at noon, Eight up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion ; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean.