Specimens of the British Poets: With Biographical and Critical Notices, and An Essay on English Poetry, Zväzok 5Thomas Campbell J. Murray, 1819 |
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Výsledky 1 - 5 z 20.
Strana 9
... Hast thou then forgot me ? Hast thou thy eyes , yet canst not see Alphonso ? Am I so altered , or art thou so changed , That , seeing my disguise , thou seest not me ? Alm . It is ... hast thou returned ? How hast thou WILLIAM CONGREVE . 9.
... Hast thou then forgot me ? Hast thou thy eyes , yet canst not see Alphonso ? Am I so altered , or art thou so changed , That , seeing my disguise , thou seest not me ? Alm . It is ... hast thou returned ? How hast thou WILLIAM CONGREVE . 9.
Strana 10
... hast thou returned ? How hast thou charmed The wildness of the waves and rocks to this ; That , thus relenting , they have given thee back To earth , to light and life , to love and me ? Osm . Oh , I'll not ask , nor answer , how or why ...
... hast thou returned ? How hast thou charmed The wildness of the waves and rocks to this ; That , thus relenting , they have given thee back To earth , to light and life , to love and me ? Osm . Oh , I'll not ask , nor answer , how or why ...
Strana 11
... hast wept much , Alphonso ; and , I fear , Too much , too tenderly , lamented me . Osm . Wrong not my love , to say too tenderly . No more , my life ; talk not of tears or grief ; Affliction is no more , now thou art found . Why dost ...
... hast wept much , Alphonso ; and , I fear , Too much , too tenderly , lamented me . Osm . Wrong not my love , to say too tenderly . No more , my life ; talk not of tears or grief ; Affliction is no more , now thou art found . Why dost ...
Strana 12
... hast hit my sight , Is such surprise , such mystery , such ecstasy , It hurries all my soul , and stuns my sense . Sure from thy father's tomb thou didst arise ? Osm . I did ; and thou , my love , didst call me ; thou . Alm . True ; but ...
... hast hit my sight , Is such surprise , such mystery , such ecstasy , It hurries all my soul , and stuns my sense . Sure from thy father's tomb thou didst arise ? Osm . I did ; and thou , my love , didst call me ; thou . Alm . True ; but ...
Strana 22
... why does Cuddy leave his cot so rear ? Cuddy . Ah , Lobbin Clout ! I ween my plight is guest , For he that loves a stranger is to rest ; If swains belie not , thou hast prov'd the smart 22 JOHN GAY . Monday; or the Squabble •
... why does Cuddy leave his cot so rear ? Cuddy . Ah , Lobbin Clout ! I ween my plight is guest , For he that loves a stranger is to rest ; If swains belie not , thou hast prov'd the smart 22 JOHN GAY . Monday; or the Squabble •
Časté výrazy a frázy
Æsop ALLAN RAMSAY beneath Biron blest bliss BORN bosom breast breath bright charms COLLEY CIBBER crown'd Cuddy dear death delight e'er earth Ev'n eyes face fair fame fancy fate fear fond gentle GEORGE LILLO GEORGE SEWELL give grace grave Grongar Hill hair hand happy hast head hear heart heaven heel I three JOHN VANBRUGH Jove LEONARD WELSTED live Lord Lubberkin maid Metis mind Moria mortal Muse ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er pain peace plain pleas'd pleasure poet praise pride rise round seem'd shade shining sighs sing sleep smile soft song soon soul spleen swain sweet swelling sylphs taste tears tell Thalestris thee THOMAS WARTON thou thought trembling turn me thrice Twas Venus vows ween WILLIAM SHENSTONE Wilm Wilmot wind wings wretch youth
Populárne pasáže
Strana 220 - Sent forth a sleepy horror through the blood ; And where this valley winded out, below, The murmuring main was heard, and scarcely heard, to flow.
Strana 121 - A brighter wash; to curl their waving hairs, Assist their blushes, and inspire their airs; Nay oft, in dreams, invention we bestow, To change a flounce, or add a furbelow.
Strana 332 - Wide and wider spreads the vale, As circles on a smooth canal : The mountains round, unhappy fate ! Sooner or later, of all height, Withdraw their summits from the skies, And lessen as the others rise : Still...
Strana 135 - Unless good Sense preserve what Beauty gains : That Men may say, when we the Front-box grace, Behold the first in Virtue as in Face...
Strana 136 - And trust me, dear ! good-humour can prevail, When airs, and flights, and screams, and scolding fail. Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll ; Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.
Strana 130 - And screen'd in shades from day's detested glare, She sighs for ever on her pensive bed, Pain at her side, and Megrim at her head.
Strana 112 - The world recedes; it disappears! Heaven opens on my eyes! my ears With sounds seraphic ring: Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! O Grave! where is thy victory? O Death ! where is thy sting ? The Universal Prayer FATHER of all!
Strana 121 - Planets through the boundless Sky. Some less refin'd, beneath the Moon's pale Light Pursue the Stars that shoot athwart the Night ; Or suck the Mists in grosser Air below, Or dip their Pinions in the painted Bow, Or brew fierce Tempests on the wintry Main, Or o'er the Glebe distil the kindly Rain.
Strana 312 - TO EVENING. If aught of oaten stop, or pastoral song, May hope, chaste eve, to soothe thy modest ear, Like thy own solemn springs, Thy springs, and dying gales...
Strana 42 - India's coast we sail, Thy eyes are seen in diamonds bright; Thy breath is Afric's spicy gale, Thy skin is ivory so white. Thus every beauteous object that I view, Wakes in my soul some charm of lovely Sue. Though battle call me from thy arms. Let not my pretty Susan mourn ; Though cannons roar, yet safe from harms, William shall to his dear return. Love turns aside the balls that round me fly, Lest precious tears should drop from Susan's eye.