Posthumous poems. Translations from Vincent Bourne. Translations of the Latin and Italian poems of Milton. Epigrams tr. from the Latin of Owen. Translations of Greek verses. Translations from the Fables of Gay. Adam: a sacred drama, tr. from the Italian of AndreiniBaldwin and Cradock, 1837 |
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Seite 13
... breast ! So little felt , so fervently profess'd ! Thy blossoms deck our unsuspecting years ; The promise of delicious fruit appears : We hug the hopes of constancy and truth , Such is the folly of our dreaming youth ; But soon , alas ...
... breast ! So little felt , so fervently profess'd ! Thy blossoms deck our unsuspecting years ; The promise of delicious fruit appears : We hug the hopes of constancy and truth , Such is the folly of our dreaming youth ; But soon , alas ...
Seite 19
... breast ; Such joy and peace as can be known By sufferers like herself alone , Who losing , or supposing lost , The good on earth they valued most , For that dear sorrow's sake forego All hope of happiness below , Then suddenly regain ...
... breast ; Such joy and peace as can be known By sufferers like herself alone , Who losing , or supposing lost , The good on earth they valued most , For that dear sorrow's sake forego All hope of happiness below , Then suddenly regain ...
Seite 36
... breast , With force not easily suppress'd ; And Dick felt some desires , That , after many an effort vain , Instructed him at length to gain A pass between his wires . The open windows seem'd to invite The freeman to a farewell flight ...
... breast , With force not easily suppress'd ; And Dick felt some desires , That , after many an effort vain , Instructed him at length to gain A pass between his wires . The open windows seem'd to invite The freeman to a farewell flight ...
Seite 56
... breast , And I had purposed ne'er to go in quest Of Friendship more , except with God alone . But Thou hast won me ; nor is God my foe , Who , ere this last afflictive scene began , Sent Thee to mitigate the dreadful blow , My Brother ...
... breast , And I had purposed ne'er to go in quest Of Friendship more , except with God alone . But Thou hast won me ; nor is God my foe , Who , ere this last afflictive scene began , Sent Thee to mitigate the dreadful blow , My Brother ...
Seite 56
... breast , purposed ser to go in quest Sap more exep with God alone . Icon hast ver me ; or is God my foe , ve scene began , The to mitigate the dreadful blow , other , by whose sympathy I know Ply true deserts in „ bly to seen . Not sore ...
... breast , purposed ser to go in quest Sap more exep with God alone . Icon hast ver me ; or is God my foe , ve scene began , The to mitigate the dreadful blow , other , by whose sympathy I know Ply true deserts in „ bly to seen . Not sore ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
ADAM ANGEL ANTISTROPHE arms art thou Avernus bard BEELZEBUB Behold beneath birds blaze blest boast Boötes bosom breast breath bright brow Cacus call'd canst celestial CHERUBIM dart dear death delight divine dost thou dread dwell earth eternal eyes fair falchions fame Faunus fear fierce fire flame FLESH flowers form'd fruit gentle glory GOD THE FATHER gold grace grove hallow'd hand hands united hast heart heaven heavenly hell Hence human infernal Jove Latian length light live lofty Lord LUCIFER lyre mighty monster Muse ne'er numbers nymphs o'er once pain Pallas Phoebus praise radiant SATAN SCENE seat seem'd SERPENT shade shine shore sigh sing skies song soul sound speak spirit stars stream sweet Tartarus tears thee thine thou art thou hast thou shalt thyself verse voice VOLAN WILLIAM HAYLEY wings wish wretched youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 85 - T was my distress that brought thee low, My Mary ! Thy needles, once a shining store, For my sake restless heretofore, Now rust disused, and shine no more ; My Mary ! For though thou gladly wouldst fulfil The same kind office for me still...
Seite 67 - When playing with thy vesture's tissued flowers, The violet, the pink, and jessamine, I pricked them into paper with a pin, (And thou wast happier than myself the while, Wouldst softly speak, and stroke my head, and smile...
Seite 1 - Toll for the brave! The brave that are no more! All sunk beneath the wave, Fast by their native shore! Eight hundred of the brave, Whose courage well was tried, Had made the vessel heel, And laid her on her side. A land breeze shook the shrouds, And she was overset; Down went the Royal George, With all her crew complete.
Seite 67 - Shoots into port at some well-havened isle, Where spices breathe and brighter seasons smile, There sits quiescent on the floods, that show Her beauteous form reflected clear below, While airs impregnated with incense play Around her, fanning light her streamers gay, So thou, with sails how swift, hast reached the shore 'Where tempests never beat nor billows roar,' And thy loved consort on the dangerous tide Of life long since has anchored by thy side.
Seite 5 - Why did All-creating Nature Make the plant for which we toil ? Sighs must fan it, tears must water, Sweat of ours must dress the soil. Think, ye masters iron-hearted, Lolling at your jovial boards, Think how many backs have smarted For the sweets your cane affords.
Seite 98 - Adieu!' At length, his transient respite past, His comrades, who before Had heard his voice in every blast, Could catch the sound no more: For then, by toil subdued, he drank The stifling wave, and then he sank. No poet wept him; but the page Of narrative sincere, That tells his name, his worth, his age Is wet with Anson's tear: And tears by bards or heroes shed Alike immortalize the dead.
Seite 48 - Oh, could'st thou speak, As in Dodona once thy kindred trees Oracular, I would not curious ask The future, best unknown, but at thy mouth Inquisitive, the less ambiguous past. By thee I might correct, erroneous oft, The clock of history, facts and events Timing more punctual, unrecorded facts Recov'ring, and misstated setting right...
Seite 65 - It was. Where thou art gone Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown.
Seite 5 - Is there, as ye sometimes tell us, Is there One, who reigns on high ? Has He bid you buy and sell us, Speaking from his throne, the sky ? Ask him, if your knotted scourges, Matches, blood-extorting screws, Are the means...
Seite 97 - He loved them both, but both in vain, Nor him beheld, nor her, again. Not long beneath the whelming brine, Expert to swim, he lay; Nor soon he felt his strength decline Or courage die away; But waged with death a lasting strife, Supported by despair of life.