The English Anthology ...Joseph Ritson C. Clarke, 1793 - 334 Seiten "A selection of English poetry, in a chronological series, from the beginning of the sixteenth century (or, including an extract from Chaucer, from the latter part of the fourteenth) to the present time, upon a plan hitherto unattempted, at least in this country. ... No alteration (except in apparent mistakes) has been attempted either in the language or in the orthography, as as little as possible even in the punctuation, of the edition followed ... nor has any piece been inserted which had already appeared in "A Select Collection of English Songs," published in 1783"--Advertisement. |
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Seite 51
... bleft kingdoms meek of joy and love ; There entertain him all the faints above , In folemn troops and sweet societies , 175 That fing , and finging in their glory move , 180 And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes . Now , Lycidas ...
... bleft kingdoms meek of joy and love ; There entertain him all the faints above , In folemn troops and sweet societies , 175 That fing , and finging in their glory move , 180 And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes . Now , Lycidas ...
Seite 100
... bleft With sweet , and with refreshing rest , And to found fleepst hey've beft pretence 75 Who've greatest share of innocence . XX . We fhould fo live then that we may Fearless put off our clotts and clay , And travel through death's ...
... bleft With sweet , and with refreshing rest , And to found fleepst hey've beft pretence 75 Who've greatest share of innocence . XX . We fhould fo live then that we may Fearless put off our clotts and clay , And travel through death's ...
Seite 131
... bleft , Of what his father left poffeft ; No bafe defires corrupt his head , No fears difturb him in his bed . What then in life , which foon must end , Can all our vain defigns intend ? From shore to fhore why should we run , When none ...
... bleft , Of what his father left poffeft ; No bafe defires corrupt his head , No fears difturb him in his bed . What then in life , which foon must end , Can all our vain defigns intend ? From shore to fhore why should we run , When none ...
Seite 133
... bleft as now : From all th ' allays of bliss I here am free , I pity others , and none envy me . III . Here in this fhady lonely grove , I fweetly think my hours away , Neither with business vex'd nor love , Which in the world bear fuch ...
... bleft as now : From all th ' allays of bliss I here am free , I pity others , and none envy me . III . Here in this fhady lonely grove , I fweetly think my hours away , Neither with business vex'd nor love , Which in the world bear fuch ...
Seite 142
... 5 SONG . BY THE SAME . I. THO ' Celia's born to be ador'd , And Strephon to adore her born , In vain her pity is implor'd , Who kills him twice , with charms and scorn . * Born 1663 ; dyed 1708 . II . Fair faint , to your bleft orb repair.
... 5 SONG . BY THE SAME . I. THO ' Celia's born to be ador'd , And Strephon to adore her born , In vain her pity is implor'd , Who kills him twice , with charms and scorn . * Born 1663 ; dyed 1708 . II . Fair faint , to your bleft orb repair.
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
againſt beauty bleft Born breaſt cauſe charms cloſe Cynthus DAPHNIS defire deſpair doth dyed e'er eaſe Ev'n ev'ry eyes facred fafe fair falutes fame fate fear fecret feems fhade fhall fide fighs fight filence filk fing firſt flame flow foft fome fong foon forrow foul freſh ftill fuch fudden fung fwain fweet grace groves hath heart heav'n himſelf HOBBINOL inſpire itſelf kings laft LANQUET laſt lefs loft lov'd Lycidas maid MICHAEL DRAYTON mind moffy moſt Mufe muft Muſe muſt night numbers Nut-brown Maid nymph o'er paffion paſs paſt pleaſe pleaſure pow'r praiſe purſue raiſe reft reſt rife roſes ſcene ſeen ſhade ſhall ſhape ſhe ſhore ſhould ſhow ſkies ſkill ſky ſome ſpread ſpring ſtate ſtill ſtrain ſtream ſweet tears thee theſe thine thoſe thou thouſand thro Twas uſe verſe Whilft whofe whoſe winds wiſh youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 35 - Sometimes, with secure delight, The upland hamlets will invite, When the merry bells ring round, And the jocund rebecks sound To many a youth and many a maid, Dancing in the chequered shade; And young and old come forth to play On a sunshine holiday, Till the livelong daylight fail...
Seite 39 - Swinging slow with sullen roar; Or if the air will not permit, Some still removed place will fit, Where glowing embers through the room Teach light to counterfeit a gloom...
Seite 43 - Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear, Compels me to disturb your season due : For Lycidas* is dead, dead ere his prime, Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer : Who would not sing for Lycidas ? He knew Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.
Seite 33 - Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful Jollity, Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods and becks, and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek ; Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides.
Seite 118 - Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure ; Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure ; Sweet is pleasure after pain. Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain ; Fought all his battles o'er again ; And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain.
Seite 46 - O fountain Arethuse, and thou honoured flood, Smooth-sliding Mincius, crowned with vocal reeds, That strain I heard was of a higher mood ! But now my oat proceeds, And listens to the Herald of the Sea That came in Neptune's plea.
Seite 44 - For we were nursed upon the self-same hill, Fed the same flock by fountain, shade, and rill. Together both, ere the high lawns appeared Under the opening eyelids of the morn, We drove a-field, and both together heard What time the gray-fly winds her sultry horn...
Seite 117 - Flushed with a purple grace He shows his honest face: Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes! Bacchus , ever fair and young , Drinking joys did first ordain : Bacchus...
Seite 46 - The air was calm, and on the level brine Sleek Panope with all her sisters played. It was that fatal and perfidious bark, Built in the eclipse, and rigged with curses dark, That sunk so low that sacred head of thine.
Seite 49 - Weep no more, woeful shepherds, weep no more, For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead, Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor. So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed. And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore Flames in the forehead of the morning sky...