The Poetical Works of William Collins, Volum 1W. Pickering, 1830 - 150 sider |
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Side x
... reason is , that these works were mere speculations to raise money , and that the idea was not encouraged by the booksellers ; but if , as Johnson , who knew Collins well , asserts , his character wanted decision and perseverance ...
... reason is , that these works were mere speculations to raise money , and that the idea was not encouraged by the booksellers ; but if , as Johnson , who knew Collins well , asserts , his character wanted decision and perseverance ...
Side xii
... reason to expect , from its reception by the public , that it was destined to live as long as the passions themselves animate or distract the world . It is uncertain at what time he undertook . to publish a volume of Odes in conjunction ...
... reason to expect , from its reception by the public , that it was destined to live as long as the passions themselves animate or distract the world . It is uncertain at what time he undertook . to publish a volume of Odes in conjunction ...
Side xiv
... reason of its failure is un- known . On the death of Thomson , in August , 1748 , Collins wrote an ode to his memory , which is no less remarkable for its beauty as a composition , than for its pathetic tenderness as a memorial of a ...
... reason of its failure is un- known . On the death of Thomson , in August , 1748 , Collins wrote an ode to his memory , which is no less remarkable for its beauty as a composition , than for its pathetic tenderness as a memorial of a ...
Side xvii
... reason's lucid hours , Sought on one book his troubled mind to rest , And rightly deem'd the Book of God the best . " A journey to Bath proved as useless as the one to France ; and in 1754 , he went to Oxford for change of air and ...
... reason's lucid hours , Sought on one book his troubled mind to rest , And rightly deem'd the Book of God the best . " A journey to Bath proved as useless as the one to France ; and in 1754 , he went to Oxford for change of air and ...
Side xxii
... reason I preserved them . There are so few of his intimates now living , that I believe I am the only one who can ... reason for quitting that place , at least that was his pretext . But he had other reasons : he was in arrears to his ...
... reason I preserved them . There are so few of his intimates now living , that I believe I am the only one who can ... reason for quitting that place , at least that was his pretext . But he had other reasons : he was in arrears to his ...
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Abra admiration allegorical appear bard beautiful blank verse blest breathe character charm Chichester Circassia Collins's Colonel Martin CYMBELINE death delight demyship drest E'en Eclogues expression eyes fair fame Fancy Fear feel flowers fond genius grace Gray grief grove hair hand happy harmony hear heart honour hope hour imagery imagination inspired isle Johnson Joseph Warton lived lyre Magdalen College magic maid merit midst mind moral mountains mourn murmurs Muse myrtles native nature numbers nymph o'er Oxford passions pastoral Pity Pity's plain poems poet poet's poetical poetry pour'd Queen's College racter rage Richard Collins rove royal Abbas scene sentiment shade Shakespeare shepherds SIR THOMAS HANMER sister song Sophocles sound strain sublime sullen sung swain sweet taste tears tender thee Theocritus Thomas Warton Thomson thou thought tion toil truth vale VARIATIONS verse Warton wild William Collins writing youth
Populære avsnitt
Side 61 - Tempe's vale, her native maids, Amidst the festal sounding shades, To some unwearied minstrel dancing, While, as his flying fingers kiss'd the strings, Love framed with Mirth a gay fantastic round ; Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound : And he, amidst his frolic play, As if he would the charming air repay, Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings.
Side 60 - Her buskins gemm'd with morning dew, Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung, The hunter's call to Faun and Dryad known...
Side 87 - To fair Fidele's grassy tomb Soft maids and village hinds shall bring Each opening sweet, of earliest bloom, And rifle all the breathing Spring. No wailing ghost shall dare appear To vex with shrieks this quiet grove ; But shepherd lads assemble here, And melting virgins own their love. 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...
Side 50 - Or find some ruin 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 9 - Schiraz' walls I bent my way." At that dead hour the silent asp shall creep, If aught of rest I find, upon my sleep : Or some swoln serpent twist his scales around, And wake to anguish with a burning wound. Thrice happy they, the wise contented poor, From lust of wealth, and dread of death secure!
Side 61 - But soon he saw the brisk awakening viol, Whose sweet entrancing voice he loved the best. They would have thought who heard the strain. They saw in Tempe's...
Side lix - twas wild. But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair, What was thy delighted measure ! Still it whispered 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...
Side 49 - 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 110 - Ye mute companions of my toils, that bear In all my griefs a more than equal share, Here, where no springs in murmurs break away, Or...
Side 63 - IN yonder grave a Druid lies, Where slowly winds the stealing wave; The year's best sweets shall duteous rise To deck its poet's sylvan grave. In yon deep bed of whispering reeds His airy harp shall now be laid, That he, whose heart in sorrow bleeds, May love through life the soothing shade.