Selections from the British Poets, Volum 1Fitz-Greene Halleck Harper & brothers, 1840 |
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arms bard Bavius behold beneath bless'd bliss bosom bower breast breath bright call'd charms clouds Comus COUNTESS OF WINCHELSEA court dark death delight divine dost doth dread earth eternal Ev'n eyes fair fame fate fear flame flowers grace grave Greece Grongar Hill grove hand happy hast hath head hear heart heaven heavenly hill honour immortal Jove king light live Locrine Lycidas Lycurgus lyre mighty mind morn mortal Muse Muse's Nature's ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er pain peace pleasure poet praise pride proud raptures rill rise round sacred seem'd seraphic shade shepherd shines sight sing sleep smile soft song soul sound spirit spring stamp'd stream sung swain sweet tears Thammuz thee thine thou thought throne tree Twas vale verse vex'd virtue voice waves ween wild wind wings wonder youth
Populære avsnitt
Side 357 - 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 49 - Sweet Day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die. Sweet Rose, whose hue, angry and brave, Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die. Sweet Spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie, My music shows ye have your closes, And all must die.
Side 102 - Through the dear might of Him that walked the waves, Where other groves and other streams along, With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, And hears the unexpressive nuptial song In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love. There entertain him all the Saints above, In solemn troops, and sweet societies, That sing, and singing in their glory move, And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
Side 180 - A man so various, that he seem'd to be Not one, but all Mankind's Epitome. Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong; Was everything by starts, and nothing long: But in the course of one revolving moon, Was chemist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon: Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking; Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking.
Side 242 - HAPPY the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire; Whose trees in summer yield him shade, In winter, fire.
Side 97 - Or the unseen Genius of the wood. But let my due feet never fail To walk the studious cloister's pale, And love the high embowed roof, With antique pillars massy proof, And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light. There let the pealing organ blow, To the full-voiced quire below, In service high and anthems clear, As may with sweetness, through mine ear, Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all Heaven before mine eyes.
Side 32 - Neither a borrower, nor a lender be; For loan oft loses both itself and friend, And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Side 95 - Pelops' line, Or the tale of Troy divine, Or what (though rare) of later age Ennobled hath the buskined stage. But, O sad virgin, that thy power Might raise Musaeus from his bower! Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing Such notes as, warbled to the string, Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, And made Hell grant what love did seek...
Side 133 - Hurled headlong flaming from the ethereal sky With hideous ruin and combustion down To bottomless perdition, there to dwell In adamantine* chains and penal fire, Who durst defy the Omnipotent to arms.
Side 163 - What wondrous life is this I lead ! Ripe apples drop about my head ; The luscious clusters of the vine Upon my mouth do crush their wine ; The nectarine and curious peach Into my hands themselves do reach ; Stumbling on melons, as I pass, Ensnared with flowers, I fall on grass.