The SeasonsThomas A. Ronalds, 1813 - 168 sider |
Inni boken
Resultat 1-5 av 24
Side 4
... heard of nothing but faults , but , finding other judges more favourable , he did not suffer himself to sink into despondence . He easily discovered that the only stage on which a poet could appear , with any hope of advantage , was ...
... heard of nothing but faults , but , finding other judges more favourable , he did not suffer himself to sink into despondence . He easily discovered that the only stage on which a poet could appear , with any hope of advantage , was ...
Side 14
... heard a lady remark- ing that she could gather from his works three parts of his character , that he was a great Lover , a great Swim- mer , and rigorousty abstinent ; but , said Savage , he knows not any love but that of the sex ; he ...
... heard a lady remark- ing that she could gather from his works three parts of his character , that he was a great Lover , a great Swim- mer , and rigorousty abstinent ; but , said Savage , he knows not any love but that of the sex ; he ...
Side 25
... heard to quiver thro ' the closing woods , Or rustling turn the many - twinkling leaves Of aspin tall . Th ' uncurling floods , diffused In glassy breadth , seem , through delusive lapse , Forgetful of their course " Tis silence all ...
... heard to quiver thro ' the closing woods , Or rustling turn the many - twinkling leaves Of aspin tall . Th ' uncurling floods , diffused In glassy breadth , seem , through delusive lapse , Forgetful of their course " Tis silence all ...
Side 27
... heard , Warbling the varied heart ; the woodlands round Applied their quire ; and winds and waters flow'd In consonance . Such were those prime of days . But now those white unblemish'd manners , whene The fabling poets took their ...
... heard , Warbling the varied heart ; the woodlands round Applied their quire ; and winds and waters flow'd In consonance . Such were those prime of days . But now those white unblemish'd manners , whene The fabling poets took their ...
Side 36
... heard , run through the sweetest length Of notes ; when listening Philomela deigns To let them joy , and purposes , in thought Elate , to make her night excel their day . The black - bird whistles from the thorny brake ; The mellow ...
... heard , run through the sweetest length Of notes ; when listening Philomela deigns To let them joy , and purposes , in thought Elate , to make her night excel their day . The black - bird whistles from the thorny brake ; The mellow ...
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
Aaron Hill amid art thou Autumn beam beauty beneath blank verse blast blaze bliss bloom boundless breast breath breeze clouds dark deep delight deluge descends diffused Doddington dreadful earth ether exalts fair fair brow faithless fancy fierce flame flocks flood gale gloom glowing grace grove happy heart heaven herds hills JAMES THOMSON kind light luxury matchless maze mind mingled mix'd mountains Muse Nature Nature's night o'er passions peace plain pomp pride race rage rapture rills rise roar rocks roll round rural SAMUEL JOHNSON scene season shade shake shines shoot Sir Spencer Compton smile snow soft song Sophonisba soul spreads Spring storm stream stretch'd swain sweet swelling swift tempest tender thee Thomson thou thought thunder toil tragic Muse Typhon vale vex'd virtue walk wander waste wave wide wild winds wing Winter wintry woods youth
Populære avsnitt
Side 167 - tis nought to me ; Since God is ever present, ever felt, In the void waste as in the city full ; And where He vital breathes, there must be joy.
Side 50 - For the kind hand of an assiduous care. Delightful task ! to rear the tender thought, To teach the young idea how to shoot, To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind, To breathe th' enlivening spirit, and to fix The generous purpose in the glowing breast.
Side 166 - But wandering oft, with brute unconscious gaze, Man marks not Thee marks not the mighty Hand ; That, ever busy, wheels the silent spheres ; Works in the secret deep ; shoots, steaming, thence The fair profusion that o'erspreads the Spring ; Flings from the Sun direct the flaming day; Feeds every creature ; hurls the tempest forth ; And, as on earth this grateful change revolves. With transport touches all the springs of life.
Side 167 - While cloud to cloud returns the solemn hymn. Bleat out afresh, ye hills; ye mossy rocks, Retain the sound; the broad responsive low, Ye valleys, raise; for the Great Shepherd reigns, And his unsuffering kingdom yet will come. Ye woodlands all, awake: a boundless song Burst from the groves; and, when the restless day, Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep, Sweetest of birds, sweet Philomela ! charm The listening shades, and teach the night...
Side 163 - Summer's ardent strength, Thy sober Autumn fading into age, And pale concluding Winter comes at last, And shuts the scene. Ah! whither now are fled Those dreams of greatness ? those unsolid hopes Of happiness ? those longings after fame ? Those restless cares? those busy bustling days? Those gay-spent, festive nights? those veering thoughts Lost between good and ill, that shared thy life ? All now are vanished!
Side 55 - But yonder comes the powerful King of Day, Rejoicing in the east. The lessening cloud, The kindling azure, and the mountain's brow Illumed with fluid gold, his near approach Betoken glad.
Side 165 - And spreads a common feast for all that lives. In Winter awful thou ! with clouds and storms Around thee thrown, tempest o'er tempest roll'd, Majestic darkness! on the whirlwind's wing ' Riding sublime, thou bid'st the world adore, And humblest nature with thy northern blast.
Side 145 - Ah little think they, while they dance along, How many feel, this very moment, death, And all the sad variety of pain. How many sink in the devouring flood, Or more devouring flame ! how many bleed, By shameful variance betwixt man and man.
Side 165 - Are but the varied God. The rolling year Is full of thee. Forth in the pleasing spring Thy beauty walks, thy tenderness and love.
Side 55 - Of utmost Saturn, wheeling wide his round Of thirty years ; to Mercury, whose disk Can scarce be caught by philosophic eye, Lost in the near effulgence of thy blaze.