The Works of Thomas Gray, EsqJ. F. Dove, 1827 - 446 sider |
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Side 12
... head and heart so constantly appear together , and the fertility of his fancy so intimately unites with the sympathetic tenderness of his soul , that were it in my intention , I should find it impossible to disjoin them . His parents ...
... head and heart so constantly appear together , and the fertility of his fancy so intimately unites with the sympathetic tenderness of his soul , that were it in my intention , I should find it impossible to disjoin them . His parents ...
Side 17
... head , as you have a little pique to him . I send you my trans- lation , * which I did not engage in because I liked that part of the poem , nor do I now send it to you because I think it deserves it , but merely to shew you how I mis ...
... head , as you have a little pique to him . I send you my trans- lation , * which I did not engage in because I liked that part of the poem , nor do I now send it to you because I think it deserves it , but merely to shew you how I mis ...
Side 18
... head , but it is in like manner as Apollo broke Hyacinth's- you have foiled him infinitely at his own weapon . I must insist on seeing the rest of your translation , and then I will examine it entire , and compare it with the Latin ...
... head , but it is in like manner as Apollo broke Hyacinth's- you have foiled him infinitely at his own weapon . I must insist on seeing the rest of your translation , and then I will examine it entire , and compare it with the Latin ...
Side 24
... heads of 1st , You ; 2dly , I : the first is indeed a subject to ex- patiate upon , but you might laugh at me for talking about what I do not understand ; the second is so tiny , so tiresome , that you shall hear no more of it than that ...
... heads of 1st , You ; 2dly , I : the first is indeed a subject to ex- patiate upon , but you might laugh at me for talking about what I do not understand ; the second is so tiny , so tiresome , that you shall hear no more of it than that ...
Side 25
... head untimely to the tomb : Did e're this hand against a brother's life Drug the dire bowl or point the murd❜rous knife ? Did e'er this tongue the slanderer's tale proclaim , Or madly violate my Maker's name ? Did e'er this heart ...
... head untimely to the tomb : Did e're this hand against a brother's life Drug the dire bowl or point the murd❜rous knife ? Did e'er this tongue the slanderer's tale proclaim , Or madly violate my Maker's name ? Did e'er this heart ...
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The Works of Thomas Gray: Collated from the Various Editions; With Memoirs ... William Mason,Thomas Gray, Sir Ingen forhåndsvisning tilgjengelig - 2016 |
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
Abbéville acquaintance admirable agreeable Agrippina ancient Anicetus appear atque beautiful believe called Cambridge church death Duke Dunciad Elegy eyes Florence Genoa give gothic Grande Chartreuse GRAY TO DR Gray's hæc hand hear heart hill honour hope hunting seat imagine IMITATION insert Italy journey King lady letter lines live Lord Lord Bolingbroke manner Massinissa means melancholy mihi miles mind morning mother mountains Naples nature never night numina o'er occasion palace passed perhaps Peterhouse Petrarch Pindar pleasure poem poet poetry Pope Posidippus quæ quod Radicofani reader rest Rheims river road Rome round scene seems seen Senesino shew side sort spirit stanzas Statius sure Syphax Tacitus taste tell Teverone thing thought Tibullus town Turin verse Walpole WEST WHARTON wish write written
Populære avsnitt
Side 371 - Gainst graver hours, that bring constraint To sweeten liberty: Some bold adventurers disdain The limits of their little reign, And unknown regions dare descry: Still as they run they look behind, They hear a voice in every wind, And snatch a fearful joy.
Side 377 - This pencil take' (she said), 'whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year: Thine, too, these golden keys, immortal Boy! This can unlock the gates of joy; Of horror that, and thrilling fears, Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears.
Side 398 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech, That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, .And pore upon the brook that babbles by. " Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, Muttering his wayward fancies he would rove; Now drooping, woeful, wan, like one forlorn, Or craz'd with care, or cross'd in hopeless love.
Side 118 - I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them...
Side 380 - Weave the warp, and weave the woof, The winding-sheet of Edward's race ; Give ample room, and verge enough, The characters of hell to trace...
Side 399 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath, and near his favourite tree ; Another came : nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he : The next, with dirges due in sad array Slow through the churchway path we saw him borne, — Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Side 373 - And from her own she learn'd to melt at others' woe. Scared at thy frown terrific, fly Self-pleasing Folly's idle brood, Wild Laughter, Noise, and thoughtless Joy, And leave us leisure to be good. Light they disperse, and with them go The summer friend, the flattering foe ; By vain Prosperity received, To her they vow their truth, and are again believed.
Side 372 - 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 375 - Man's feeble race what ills await ! . Labour, and Penury, the racks of Pain, Disease, and Sorrow's weeping train, And Death, sad refuge from the storms of fate ! The fond complaint, my song, disprove, And justify the laws of Jove.
Side 397 - Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear ; Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood ; Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest ; Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood. Th...