The Beauties of the British Poets: With a Few Introductory ObservationsR.B. Seeley and W. Burnside, 1828 - 367 pagina's |
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Pagina 12
... " Thou damned wight , The author of this fact we here behold , What justice can but judge against thee right , With thine own blood to price his blood , here shed in sight ? " " What frantic fit , " quoth he , " 12 Spencer .
... " Thou damned wight , The author of this fact we here behold , What justice can but judge against thee right , With thine own blood to price his blood , here shed in sight ? " " What frantic fit , " quoth he , " 12 Spencer .
Pagina 13
... Thee , foolish man , so rash a doom to give ? What justice ever other judgment taught , But he should die who merits not to live ? None else to death this man despairing drove , But his own guilty mind deserving death . Is't then unjust ...
... Thee , foolish man , so rash a doom to give ? What justice ever other judgment taught , But he should die who merits not to live ? None else to death this man despairing drove , But his own guilty mind deserving death . Is't then unjust ...
Pagina 15
... thee ? Is't not enough , that to this lady mild Thou falsed hast thy faith with perjury , And sold thyself to serve Duessa vile , With whom in all abuse thou hast thyself defiled ? " Is not he just that all this doth behold Spencer . 15.
... thee ? Is't not enough , that to this lady mild Thou falsed hast thy faith with perjury , And sold thyself to serve Duessa vile , With whom in all abuse thou hast thyself defiled ? " Is not he just that all this doth behold Spencer . 15.
Pagina 21
... thee un'wares devour . But standing high aloft , low lay thine ear , And there such ghastly noise of iron chains , And brazen cauldrons thou shalt rumbling hear , Which thousand spirits , with long enduring pains , Do toss , that will ...
... thee un'wares devour . But standing high aloft , low lay thine ear , And there such ghastly noise of iron chains , And brazen cauldrons thou shalt rumbling hear , Which thousand spirits , with long enduring pains , Do toss , that will ...
Pagina 25
... thee : friend hast thou none ; For thy own bowels , which do call thee sire , The mere effusion of thy proper loins , Do curse the gout , serpigo , and the rheum , For ending thee no sooner : thou hast nor youth nor age ; But , as it ...
... thee : friend hast thou none ; For thy own bowels , which do call thee sire , The mere effusion of thy proper loins , Do curse the gout , serpigo , and the rheum , For ending thee no sooner : thou hast nor youth nor age ; But , as it ...
Overige edities - Alles bekijken
The Beauties of the British Poets: With a Few Introductory Observations George Croly Volledige weergave - 1828 |
The Beauties of the British Poets: With a Few Introductory Observations George Croly Volledige weergave - 1831 |
The Beauties of the British Poets: With a Few Introductory Observations George Croly Volledige weergave - 1849 |
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
beauty behold beneath bless blest bosom breast breath bright bright eyes brow charms cheerful clouds cold corse dark dead death deep delight Deloraine doth dread e'en earth eternal eyes fair fame farewell fear feel fire flowers GENEVRA George Croly grace grave Greece green grief hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hills honour hope hour labour land light lisp look Lord Lycidas lyre maid mind morn murmurs Muse ne'er never night nymph o'er pain pale peace pleasure poet praise pride raptures rill rise round Samian wine scene shade shine shore sigh silent skies sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spirit star sweet Sweet Auburn tears tempests THAMES DITTON thee thine thou art thought toil Twas vale Venice voice wandering wave weary ween weep WESTON GREEN wild wind wretched youth
Populaire passages
Pagina 106 - 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. ODE TO EVENING. If aught of oaten stop, or pastoral song, May hope, O pensive Eve, to soothe thine
Pagina 31 - returns,—puzzles the will; And makes us rather bear the ills we have, Than fly to others that we know not of! Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought; And enterprises of great pith and moment,
Pagina 332 - him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still would'st thou
Pagina 161 - is laid aside, His lyart hafiets wearing thin an' bare; Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, He wales a portion with judicious care ; And, 'Let us worship God!' he says, with solemn air. They chant their artless notes in simple guise, They tune their hearts, by
Pagina 304 - quell: He rushed into the field, and, foremost fighting-, fell. Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness ; And there were sudden partings,
Pagina 51 - and of trophies hung, In sage and solemn tunes have sung, Of forests and enchantments drear, Where more is meant than meets the ear. Thus night oft see me in thy pale career, Till silver-suited morn appear; Not trickt and frounced as she was wont, With the Attic boy to hunt, But
Pagina 329 - day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue ; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn ; Among the river sallows, borne aloft Hedge-crickets sing ; and now with treble soft The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
Pagina 63 - I fondly ask : but Patience, to prevent Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide, Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent That murmur, soon replies,
Pagina 164 - Thou's met me in an evil hour; For I maun crush amang the stoure, Thy slender stem; To spare thee now is past my power, Thou bonnie gem. Alas ! its no thy neebor sweet, The bonnie lark, companion meet; Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet, Wi' speckled breast, When upward-springing, blythe, to greet
Pagina 30 - There take an inventory of all I have, To the last penny; 'tis the king's : my robe, And my integrity to heaven, is all I dare now call my own. O Cromwell, Cromwell, Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age Have left me to mine enemies. DEATH. To be,