The Poetical Works of William CollinsW. Pickering, 1827 - 208 sider |
Inni boken
Resultat 1-5 av 23
Side 62
... To aid some mighty task , I only seek to find thy temperate vale ; Where oft my reed might sound 50 To maids and shepherds round , And all thy sons , O Nature , learn my tale . ODE ON THE POETICAL CHARACTER . As once , -if 62 ODE .
... To aid some mighty task , I only seek to find thy temperate vale ; Where oft my reed might sound 50 To maids and shepherds round , And all thy sons , O Nature , learn my tale . ODE ON THE POETICAL CHARACTER . As once , -if 62 ODE .
Side 64
... sound , Now sublimest triumph swelling , 35 Now on love and mercy dwelling ; And she , from out the veiling cloud , Breath'd her magic notes aloud : And thou , thou rich - hair'd youth of morn , And all thy subject life was born ! 40 ...
... sound , Now sublimest triumph swelling , 35 Now on love and mercy dwelling ; And she , from out the veiling cloud , Breath'd her magic notes aloud : And thou , thou rich - hair'd youth of morn , And all thy subject life was born ! 40 ...
Side 69
... sounds to life , The youths , whose locks divinely spreading , Like vernal hyacinths in sullen hue , At once the breath of fear and virtue shedding , Applauding Freedom lov'd of old to view ? What new Alcaus ' , fancy - blest , Shall ...
... sounds to life , The youths , whose locks divinely spreading , Like vernal hyacinths in sullen hue , At once the breath of fear and virtue shedding , Applauding Freedom lov'd of old to view ? What new Alcaus ' , fancy - blest , Shall ...
Side 70
... sounds would court thy ears , m Let not my shell's misguided power 15 E'er draw thy sad , thy mindful tears . No , Freedom , no , I will not tell How Rome , before thy weeping face , With heaviest sound , a giant - statue , fell , Push ...
... sounds would court thy ears , m Let not my shell's misguided power 15 E'er draw thy sad , thy mindful tears . No , Freedom , no , I will not tell How Rome , before thy weeping face , With heaviest sound , a giant - statue , fell , Push ...
Side 75
... , Play with the tangles of her hair , Till , in one loud applauding sound , The nations shout to her around , O how supremely art thou blest , Thou , lady - thou shalt rule the west ! 140 ODE TO A LADY ON THE DEATH OF COLONEL ROSS ODE . 75.
... , Play with the tangles of her hair , Till , in one loud applauding sound , The nations shout to her around , O how supremely art thou blest , Thou , lady - thou shalt rule the west ! 140 ODE TO A LADY ON THE DEATH OF COLONEL ROSS ODE . 75.
Andre utgaver - Vis alle
The Poetical Works of William Collins William Moy Thomas,William Collins Ingen forhåndsvisning tilgjengelig - 2018 |
The Poetical Works of William Collins William Collins,W. Moy 1828-1910 Thomas Ingen forhåndsvisning tilgjengelig - 2016 |
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
Abbas admired Alibez allegorical ANTISTROPHE appear bard beautiful Ben Jonson blest breathe charm Chichester Circassia Collins's Comus copy CYMBELINE death Dodsley drest Druid dwell Eclogues Edinburgh edition Ev'n expression eyes fair fairy Fancy Fear flowers genius Gentleman's Magazine grief grove hair hand happy haunt heart honour hope hour imagery isle John Home Johnson Joseph Warton Langhorne London lov'd maid midst Milton mind Mitford quotes mountains Muse nature notes numbers nymph o'er Oriental Eclogues Originally Oxford passage passions pastoral Pity plain poem poet poet's poetical poetry printed published Queen's college reader Royal Society says scene sentiment shade Shakspeare shepherds SIR THOMAS HANMER song Sophocles sound spring stanza strain Superstitions swain sweet tears tender thee Theocritus Thomas Warton thou thought vale VARIATIONS verse Warton watchet wild William Collins Winchester college written youth
Populære avsnitt
Side 86 - With woful measures wan Despair Low, sullen sounds his grief beguiled; A solemn, strange, and mingled air; 'Twas sad by fits, by starts 'twas wild.
Side 64 - How sleep the brave, who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung ; By forms unseen their dirge is sung : There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there ! TO MERCY.
Side 87 - Pour'd through the mellow horn her pensive soul: And dashing soft from rocks around Bubbling runnels join'd the sound; Through glades and glooms the mingled measure stole, Or, o'er some haunted stream, with fond delay, Round an holy calm diffusing, Love of peace, and lonely musing, In hollow murmurs died away.
Side 179 - midst its dreary dells, Whose walls more awful nod By thy religious gleams. Or if chill blustering winds, or driving rain, Prevent my willing feet, be mine the hut. That from the mountain's side Views wilds and swelling floods, And hamlets brown, and dim-discover'd spires, And hears their simple bell, and marks o'er all Thy dewy fingers draw The gradual dusky veil.
Side 77 - Who slept in buds the day, And many a Nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge, And sheds the freshening dew, and, lovelier still, The pensive Pleasures sweet, Prepare thy shadowy car.
Side 86 - twas wild. But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair, What was thy delighted measure? Still it whisper'd promised pleasure And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail ! Still would her touch the strain prolong; And from the rocks, the woods, the vale She call'd on Echo still through all the song; And, where her sweetest theme she chose, A soft responsive voice was heard at every close: And Hope enchanted smiled, and waved her golden hair...
Side 77 - O'erhang his wavy bed: Now air is hushed, save where the weak-eyed bat With short shrill shriek flits by on leathern wing, Or where the beetle winds His small but sullen horn, As oft he rises, 'midst the twilight path Against the pilgrim borne in heedless hum...
Side 100 - No wither'd witch shall here be seen, No goblins lead their nightly crew; The female fays shall haunt the green, And dress thy grave with pearly dew ! The red-breast oft at evening hours Shall kindly lend his little aid, With hoary moss, and gather'd flowers, To deck the ground where thou art laid.
Side 87 - And, ever and anon, he beat The doubling drum, with furious heat ; And though sometimes, each dreary pause between, Dejected Pity, at his side, Her soul-subduing voice applied, Yet still he kept his wild unaltered mien, While each strained ball of sight seemed bursting from his head.
Side 113 - Or thither, where beneath the showery west The mighty kings of three fair realms are laid; Once foes, perhaps, together now they rest. No slaves revere them and no wars invade: Yet frequent now, at...