Horace in English LiteratureUniversity of Wisconsin--Madison, 1917 - 82 pagina's |
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aes triplex Circa Alexander Pope Anacreon Bandusia's Ben Jonson Beziehungen zu Horaz Byron Catullus Cavalier Poets Chaucer Chief English Poets Circa pectus erat Cleopatra Coleridge Dryden Edward Moore English Literature Epist Epode F.W.Moorman farewell Horace floribus fons Bandusiae Fortleben der Horazischen H.R.D.Anders haste Hints from Horace hollius Horace and Dante Horace's Horatian Alcaic Horatian influence Horazischen Lyrik Hugo Reinsch ignes Illi robur Influence of Horace Jonson Jonson's Beziehungen Jonson's translations knew his Horace Latin lyrists looking to Horace Manilius Mary Rebecca Thayer Milton translated Muse Ode to Duty passages pede Poetica Poetry Poshumus quae Quam Iocus quoted R.G.Tucker Robert Herrick robur et aes Satire and Satura Satirist Shakespeare Shakespeare's Books sine pulvere palina Spenser spirit of Horace Stanza Stemplinger tells Studies in Dante Swinburne Tennyson Thackeray thee thesis translate Horace translated or imitated triplex Circa pectus Troil University of Wisconsin verse in Horace Virgil Wordsworth
Populaire passages
Pagina 20 - Happy the man - and happy he alone He who can call today his own, He who, secure within, can say 'Tomorrow, do thy worst, for I have lived today: Be fair or foul or rain or shine, The joys I have possessed in spite of Fate are mine: Not Heaven itself upon the Past has power, But what has been has been, and I have had my hour.
Pagina 23 - Received his laws, and stood convinc'd 'twas fit, Who conquer'd nature, should preside o'er wit. Horace still charms with graceful negligence, And without method talks us into sense : Will, like a friend, familiarly convey The truest notions in the easiest way.
Pagina 21 - Fortune, that with malicious joy Does Man, her slave, oppress, Proud of her office to destroy, Is seldom pleased to bless ; Still various, and inconstant still, But with an inclination to be ill, Promotes, degrades, delights in strife, And makes a lottery of life. I can enjoy her while she's kind; But when she dances in the wind, And shakes...
Pagina 22 - What is't to me, Who never sail in her unfaithful sea, If storms arise, and clouds grow black ; , If the mast split, and threaten wreck ? Then let the greedy merchant fear For his ill-gotten gain ; And pray to gods that will not hear, While the debating winds and billows bear His wealth into the main.
Pagina 20 - Leave for a while thy costly country seat, And, to be great indeed, forget The nauseous pleasures of the great : Make...
Pagina 32 - Let us assume that Homer was a drunkard, that Virgil was a flatterer, that Horace was a coward, that Tasso was a madman, that Lord Bacon was a peculator, that Raphael was a libertine, that Spenser was a poet laureate.
Pagina 37 - You, who despise your neighbour, are a Snob ; you, who forget your own friends, meanly to follow after those of a higher degree, are a Snob ; you, who are ashamed of your poverty, and blush for your calling, are a Snob; as are you who boast of your pedigree, or are proud of your wealth. To laugh at such is Mr. Punch's business. May he laugh honestly, hit no foul blow, and tell the truth when at his very broadest grin — never forgetting that if Fun is good, Truth is still better, and Love best of...
Pagina 21 - And virtue, though in rags, will keep me warm. What is't to me, Who never sail in her unfaithful sea, If storms arise, and clouds grow black; If the mast split and threaten wreck? Then let the greedy merchant fear For his ill-gotten gain ; And pray to gods that will not hear, While the debating winds and billows bear His wealth into the main. For me, secure from fortune's blows, Secure of what I cannot lose, In my small pinnace I can sail, Contemning all the blustering roar; And running with a merry...
Pagina 18 - Tasso, Mazzoni, and others, teaches what the laws are of a true epic poem, what of a dramatic, what of a lyric, what decorum is, which is the grand masterpiece to observe.
Pagina 17 - How many lie forgot In vaults beneath ? And piecemeal rot Without a fame in death ? Behold this living stone I rear for me, Ne'er to be thrown Down, envious Time, by thee. Pillars let some set up, If so they please : Here is my hope And my Pyramides.