The poetical works of William Collins, with the comm. of Langhorne. To which is prefixed some account of the life of Collins by dr. Johnson1804 |
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Side 16
... Yet think not these , all beauteous as they are , The best kind blessings heaven can grant the fair ! Who trust alone in beauty's feeble ray Boast but the worth Bassora's pearls display : Drawn from the deep we own their surface bright ; ...
... Yet think not these , all beauteous as they are , The best kind blessings heaven can grant the fair ! Who trust alone in beauty's feeble ray Boast but the worth Bassora's pearls display : Drawn from the deep we own their surface bright ; ...
Side 17
William Collins John Langhorne. Drawn from the deep we own their surface bright ; But , dark within , they drink no lustrous light : Such are the maids , and such the charms they boast , By sense unaided , or to virtue lost . Self ...
William Collins John Langhorne. Drawn from the deep we own their surface bright ; But , dark within , they drink no lustrous light : Such are the maids , and such the charms they boast , By sense unaided , or to virtue lost . Self ...
Side 25
... Deep in the grove , beneath the secret shade , A various wreath of odorous flowers she made : Gay - motley'd ' pinks and sweet jonquils she chose ; The violet blue that on the moss - bank grows ; All - sweet to sense , the flaunting ...
... Deep in the grove , beneath the secret shade , A various wreath of odorous flowers she made : Gay - motley'd ' pinks and sweet jonquils she chose ; The violet blue that on the moss - bank grows ; All - sweet to sense , the flaunting ...
Side 29
... whence first in fear we came , Droops its fair honours to the conquering flame : Far fly the swains , like us , in deep despair , And leave to ruffian bands their fleecy care . SECANDER . Unhappy land , whose blessings tempt the sword 29.
... whence first in fear we came , Droops its fair honours to the conquering flame : Far fly the swains , like us , in deep despair , And leave to ruffian bands their fleecy care . SECANDER . Unhappy land , whose blessings tempt the sword 29.
Side 40
... deep , Who spread his wavy sweep , In warbled wanderings , round thy green retreat ; On whose enamell'd side , When holy Freedom died , No equal haunt allur'd thy future feet . O sister meek of Truth , To my admiring youth , Thy sober ...
... deep , Who spread his wavy sweep , In warbled wanderings , round thy green retreat ; On whose enamell'd side , When holy Freedom died , No equal haunt allur'd thy future feet . O sister meek of Truth , To my admiring youth , Thy sober ...
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The Poetical Works of William Collins, with the Comm. of Langhorne. to Which ... William Collins Ingen forhåndsvisning tilgjengelig - 2016 |
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
Abra lov'd AGIB allegorical ancient ANTISTROPHE bard beautiful blank verse blast blest boast breathe Brownie charm Circassia Collins CYMBELINE death delight dreary drest Druid dwell E'en epithalamium ev'ry eyes fair fairy Fancy fear flowers fond genius Georgian maid golden hair Greece green grief grove hail hand happy haste haunt hear heard heart Hebrides hour imagery isle John Sharpe luckless lyre lyric magic maid like Abra midst mind moral mountains mourn mov'd murmurs muse myrtles native nature Ne'er numbers Nymph o'er Oriental Eclogues passions pastoral Pity Pity's plain poems poet poet's poetical poetry Polynices rage round royal Abbas rural scene Schiraz sentiment shade shepherds sighs SIR THOMAS HANMER soft song Sophocles sounds springs strain sullen sung swain sweet tears tender thee Theocritus thou thought toil truth vale verse virtue voice of Peace watchet wild wizzard youth εν
Populære avsnitt
Side 72 - 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 71 - tis said, when all were fired, Fill'd with fury, rapt, inspired, From the supporting myrtles round They snatch'd her instruments of sound,' And, as they oft had heard apart Sweet lessons of her forceful art, Each (for madness ruled the hour) Would prove his own expressive power, FIRST Fear his hand, its skill to try, Amid the chords bewilder'd laid, And back recoil'd, he knew not why, E'en at the sound himself had made.
Side 46 - 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.
Side 70 - When Music, heavenly maid, was young, While yet in early Greece she sung, The Passions oft, to hear her shell, Thronged around her magic cell...
Side 85 - 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 redbreast 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 138 - 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 45 - While on its rich ambitious head, An Eden, like his own, lies spread. I view that oak, the fancied glades among, By which as Milton lay, his evening ear, From many a cloud that dropp'd ethereal dew, Nigh spher'd in heaven, its native strains could hear...
Side 8 - That this man, wise and virtuous as he was, passed always unentangled through the snares of life, it would be prejudice and temerity to affirm; but it may be said that at least he preserved the source of action unpolluted, that his principles were never shaken, that his distinctions of right and wrong were never confounded, and that his faults had nothing of malignity or design, but proceeded from some unexpected pressure, or casual temptation.
Side 142 - 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...
Side 22 - What if the lion in his rage I meet ! Oft in the dust I view his printed feet : And fearful ! oft, when day's declining light Yields her pale empire to the mourner night, By hunger...