The muses' bower, embellished with the beauties of English poetry, Volum 3W. Plant Piercy, 1809 |
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Side 26
... once admir'd , Thus Atticus , and Trumbal thus retir❜d . eyes , Ye sacred Nine ! that all my soul possess , Whose raptures fire me , and whose visions bless , Bear me , O bear me to sequester'd scenes , The bow'ry mazes , and ...
... once admir'd , Thus Atticus , and Trumbal thus retir❜d . eyes , Ye sacred Nine ! that all my soul possess , Whose raptures fire me , and whose visions bless , Bear me , O bear me to sequester'd scenes , The bow'ry mazes , and ...
Side 28
... once fear'd Edward sleeps : Whom not th ' extended Albion could contain , From old Belerium to the northern main , The grave unites ; where e'en the great find rest , And blended lie th ' oppressor and th ' opprest ! Make sacred ...
... once fear'd Edward sleeps : Whom not th ' extended Albion could contain , From old Belerium to the northern main , The grave unites ; where e'en the great find rest , And blended lie th ' oppressor and th ' opprest ! Make sacred ...
Side 31
... Once more to bend before a British Queen . " Thy trees , fair Windsor ! now shall leave their woods , And half thy forests rush into thy floods , Bear Britain's thunder , and her cross display , To the bright regions of the rising day ...
... Once more to bend before a British Queen . " Thy trees , fair Windsor ! now shall leave their woods , And half thy forests rush into thy floods , Bear Britain's thunder , and her cross display , To the bright regions of the rising day ...
Side 32
... once more a race of kings behold , And other Mexico's be roof'd with gold . Exil'd by thee from earth to deepest hell , In brazen bonds , shall barb'rous Discord dwell : Gigantic Pride , pale Terror , gloomy Care , And mad Ambition ...
... once more a race of kings behold , And other Mexico's be roof'd with gold . Exil'd by thee from earth to deepest hell , In brazen bonds , shall barb'rous Discord dwell : Gigantic Pride , pale Terror , gloomy Care , And mad Ambition ...
Side 55
... once the island shook , and shrieks of woe At times were heard , amid the troubled air : Her whole frame shook , the blood forsook her face , Her knees knock'd , and her heart within her died .. Trembling and pale , and boding woes to ...
... once the island shook , and shrieks of woe At times were heard , amid the troubled air : Her whole frame shook , the blood forsook her face , Her knees knock'd , and her heart within her died .. Trembling and pale , and boding woes to ...
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The muses' bower, embellished with the beauties of English poetry, Volum 3 English poetry Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1809 |
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
ancient beauty behold bending beneath bittern blest bliss bloom boast bosom breast breath bright charms cheerful climes clouds Cooper's Hill courser dark death delight earth Ev'n ev'ry fair fate fields fleece flies flocks flow'r flowers forests GEORGIC gloomy grave green Grongar Hill groves hand happy heart heav'n hill hour kings labour lake land lapwing Levina luxury lyre meads midst mighty mind morn mountains Muse Muse's Naiad Nature's ne'er nymph o'er pain peace plain pleas'd pow'r praise prey pride proud rage realms reign rill rise rocks round rude scene seraph shade shine shore silent skies smile song soul sound spread Spring stamp'd streams swain sweet SWEET Auburn swelling tempest thee thine thou thro Tobol toil tow'ring trees trembling Twas vale vallies verdant voice wandering wave wealth wide wild wind Windsor woodlark woods wretch youth
Populære avsnitt
Side 149 - The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, The playful children just let loose from school, The watch-dog's voice that bayed the whispering wind. And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind, These all in sweet confusion sought the shade, And filled each pause the nightingale had made.
Side 158 - Now lost to all — her friends, her virtue fled — Near her betrayer's door she lays her head, And, pinch'd with cold, and shrinking from the shower, With heavy heart deplores that luckless hour When idly first, ambitious of the town, She left her wheel, and robes of country brown.
Side 218 - If I am right, Thy grace impart Still in the right to stay ; If I am wrong, oh, teach my heart To find that better way!
Side 217 - Yet gave me, in this dark estate, To see the good from ill; And, binding nature fast in fate, Left free the human will.
Side 147 - Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay : Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade ; A breath can make them, as a breath has made ; But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroyed, can never be supplied.
Side 146 - How often have I blest the coming day, When toil remitting lent its turn to play, And all the village train, from labour free, Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree ; While many a pastime circled in the shade, The young contending as the old surveyed ; And many a gambol frolicked o'er the ground, And sleights of art and feats of strength went round...
Side 155 - Not so the loss. The man of wealth and pride Takes up a space that many poor supplied — Space for his lake, his park's extended bounds, Space for his horses, equipage, and hounds ; The robe that wraps his limbs in silken sloth, Has robbed the neighbouring fields of half their growth; His seat, where solitary sports are seen, Indignant spurns the cottage from the green...
Side 140 - Stern o'er each bosom reason holds her state With daring aims irregularly great ; Pride in their port, defiance in their eye, I see the lords of human kind pass by...
Side 153 - For e'en though vanquish'd, he could argue still ; While words of learned length, and thundering sound, Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around ; And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew That one small head could carry all he knew. But past is all his fame. The very spot Where many a time he triumph'd, is forgot. Near yonder thorn, that lifts its head on high, Where once the sign-post caught the passing eye...
Side 221 - 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...