The Poetical Works of Thomas GrayAnson D. F. Randolph & Company, 1884 - 124 sider |
Inni boken
Resultat 1-5 av 13
Side 15
... . Now the rich stream of music winds along , Deep , majestic , smooth , and strong , Thro ' verdant vales , and Ceres ' golden reign ; Now rolling down the steep amain , Headlong , impetuous , see it pour ; The rocks THE PROGRESS OF POESY.
... . Now the rich stream of music winds along , Deep , majestic , smooth , and strong , Thro ' verdant vales , and Ceres ' golden reign ; Now rolling down the steep amain , Headlong , impetuous , see it pour ; The rocks THE PROGRESS OF POESY.
Side 18
... deep , Fields , that cool Ilissus laves , Or where Mæander's amber waves In lingering lab'rinths creep , How do your tuneful echoes languish , Mute , but to the voice of anguish ! " In thy green lap was Nature's Darling laid , 18 Gray's ...
... deep , Fields , that cool Ilissus laves , Or where Mæander's amber waves In lingering lab'rinths creep , How do your tuneful echoes languish , Mute , but to the voice of anguish ! " In thy green lap was Nature's Darling laid , 18 Gray's ...
Side 19
... deep a solemn sound : Till the sad Nine , in Greece's evil hour , Left their Parnassus for the Latian plains . Alike they scorn the pomp of tyrant Power , And coward Vice , that revels in her chains . When Latium had her lofty spirit ...
... deep a solemn sound : Till the sad Nine , in Greece's evil hour , Left their Parnassus for the Latian plains . Alike they scorn the pomp of tyrant Power , And coward Vice , that revels in her chains . When Latium had her lofty spirit ...
Side 21
... deep of air : Yet oft before his infant eyes would run Such forms as glitter in the Muse's ray , With orient hues , unborrow'd of the sun : Yet shall he mount , and keep his distant way Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate , Beneath the ...
... deep of air : Yet oft before his infant eyes would run Such forms as glitter in the Muse's ray , With orient hues , unborrow'd of the sun : Yet shall he mount , and keep his distant way Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate , Beneath the ...
Side 23
... deep sorrows of his lyre . " Hark , how each giant - oak , and desert cave , Sighs to the torrent's awful voice beneath ! O'er thee , O King ! their hundred arms they wave , Revenge on thee in hoarser murmurs breathe ; Vocal no more ...
... deep sorrows of his lyre . " Hark , how each giant - oak , and desert cave , Sighs to the torrent's awful voice beneath ! O'er thee , O King ! their hundred arms they wave , Revenge on thee in hoarser murmurs breathe ; Vocal no more ...
Andre utgaver - Vis alle
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
AGRIP Agrippina Anicetus BARD beneath breast breath brood brow Cambria's climes College dauntless death distant divine dread Duke of Grafton Earl Edda Edward Eirin Elegy Eolian EPITAPH ETON COLLEGE eyes fame fate fears fire flame flood FRAGMENT giv'n glittering glow golden golden reign grace Gray hail hand head hear heart heav'n Henry the Sixth honour Horace Walpole hurl'd John Penn Jove King lady lap was Nature's Lord Lord of War lyre Margaret of Anjou morn mother Muse Nature's Darling laid ne'er Nero night o'er ODIN Otho passion Pindar pleasure poem poet Poppaa pride PROPHETESS race reign repose round ruin shade SIR WILLIAM WILLIAMS skies smile soft solemn soul spring steep sweet Taliessin tear thee THOMAS GRAY thou thro thy green lap trembling vale verse voice warblings wat'ry wave weave weep whence wing youth
Populære avsnitt
Side 26 - Fill high the sparkling bowl. The rich repast prepare ; Reft of a crown, he yet may share the feast : Close by the regal chair Fell Thirst and Famine scowl A baleful smile upon their baffled guest.
Side 11 - Age. To each his sufferings: all are men, Condemn'd alike to groan; The tender for another's pain, Th' unfeeling for his own. Yet, ah! why should they know their fate, Since sorrow never comes too late, And happiness too swiftly flies ? Thought would destroy their paradise! No more; — where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.
Side 54 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke ; How jocund did they drive their team afield ! How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke ! Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys, and destiny obscure ; y> Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short...
Side 57 - Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply ; And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die.
Side 2 - Where'er the oak's thick branches stretch a broader, browner shade, where'er the rude and moss-grown beech o'er-canopies the glade, beside some water's rushy brink with me the Muse shall sit, and think (at ease reclined in rustic state) how vain the ardour of the Crowd, how low, how little are the Proud, how indigent the Great! 298 Still is the toiling hand of Care; the panting herds repose: yet hark, how thro' the peopled air the busy murmur glows!
Side 5 - Through richest purple to the view Betray'da golden gleam. The hapless nymph with wonder saw : A whisker first, and then a claw, With many an ardent wish, She stretch'd, in vain, to reach the prize...
Side 5 - A fav'rite has no friend ! From hence, ye beauties, undeceived, Know, one false step is ne'er retrieved, And be with caution bold. Not all that tempts your wand'ring eyes, And heedless hearts, is lawful prize ; Nor all that glisters gold.
Side 23 - On a rock, whose haughty brow Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood, Robed in the sable garb of woe, With haggard eyes the poet stood; (Loose his beard and hoary hair Streamed like a meteor to the troubled air...
Side 59 - Heaven ('twas all he wish'd) a friend. No farther seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (There they alike in trembling hope repose) The bosom of his Father and his God.
Side 55 - Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire; Hands that the rod of empire might have swayed, Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre...