Ovid: Selected Works, with Notes and Vocabulary

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American Book Company, 1900 - 528 Seiten

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Inhalt

I
11
II
17
III
23
IV
34
V
38
VI
41
VII
46
IX
50
XIX
122
XX
133
XXI
140
XXII
151
XXIII
158
XXIV
166
XXV
169
XXVI
174

X
53
XI
56
XII
59
XIII
60
XIV
63
XV
64
XVI
91
XVII
103
XVIII
113

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Beliebte Passagen

Seite 384 - Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony; That Orpheus' self may heave his head From golden slumber on a bed Of heaped Elysian flowers, and hear Such strains as would have won the ear Of Pluto, to have quite set free His half regained Eurydice. — L'Allegro.
Seite 295 - A dark Illimitable ocean, without bound, Without dimension, where length, breadth, and height, And time, and place, are lost; where eldest Night And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold Eternal anarchy, amidst the noise Of endless wars, and by confusion stand. For Hot, Cold, Moist, and Dry, four champions fierce, Strive here for mastery, and to battle bring Their embryon atoms
Seite 384 - But oh, 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. — // Penseroso.
Seite 414 - Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleave of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast. — Shakespeare, Macbeth.
Seite 295 - Into this wild abyss, The womb of Nature, and perhaps her grave, Of neither sea, nor shore, nor air, nor fire. But all these in their pregnant causes mixed Confusedly, and which thus must ever fight, Unless the almighty Maker them ordain His dark materials to create more worlds,
Seite 361 - The Niobe of nations! there she stands, Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe; An empty urn within her wither'd hands, Whose holy dust was scatter'd long ago ; The Scipio's tomb contains no ashes now; The very sepulchers lie tenantless Of their heroic dwellers : dost thou flow, Old Tiber! through a marble wilderness? Rise, with thy yellow waves, and mantle her distress.
Seite 349 - IV) : — Not that fair field Of Enna, where Proserpine gathering flowers, Herself a fairer flower, by gloomy Dis Was gathered, which cost Ceres all that pain To seek her through the world; . . . Of Eden strive. might with
Seite 354 - With sloping masts and dripping prow, As who pursued with yell and blow Still treads the shadow of his foe, And forward bends his head, The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, And southward aye we fled.
Seite 254 - What can atone (O ever injured shade I) Thy fate unpitied, and thy rites unpaid ? No friend's complaint, no kind domestic tear Pleased thy pale ghost, or graced thy mournful bier. By foreign hands thy dying eyes were closed, By foreign hands thy decent limbs composed, By foreign hands thy humble grave adorn'd, By strangers honor'd, and by strangers mourn'd!
Seite 368 - Before her, Fancy's gilded clouds decay, And all its varying rainbows die away; Wit shoots in vain its momentary fires, The meteor drops, and in a flash expires; As one by one, at dread Medea's strain, The sickening stars fade off the ethereal plain.

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