The English Poets: Addison to BlakeMacmillan and Company, 1889 |
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Página 16
... blest Astrea's gone , some soil remains Where Fortune is the slave , and Merit reigns . The Tiber boasts his Julian progeny , Thames his Nassau , the Nile his Ptolemy . Iberia , yet for future sway design'd , Shall , for a Hesse , a ...
... blest Astrea's gone , some soil remains Where Fortune is the slave , and Merit reigns . The Tiber boasts his Julian progeny , Thames his Nassau , the Nile his Ptolemy . Iberia , yet for future sway design'd , Shall , for a Hesse , a ...
Página 42
... blest at home ? Unerring Heaven , with bounteous hand , Has form'd a model for your land , Whom Jove endued with every grace ; The glory of the Granard race ; Now destined by the powers divine The blessing of another line . Then , would ...
... blest at home ? Unerring Heaven , with bounteous hand , Has form'd a model for your land , Whom Jove endued with every grace ; The glory of the Granard race ; Now destined by the powers divine The blessing of another line . Then , would ...
Página 83
... blest abodes ; The glorious fault of Angels and of Gods : Thence to their images on earth it flows , And in the breasts of kings and heroes glows . Most souls , ' tis true , but peep out once an age , Dull sullen pris'ners in the body's ...
... blest abodes ; The glorious fault of Angels and of Gods : Thence to their images on earth it flows , And in the breasts of kings and heroes glows . Most souls , ' tis true , but peep out once an age , Dull sullen pris'ners in the body's ...
Página 85
... , but always to be blest . The soul ( uneasy , and confin'd ) from home , Rests and expatiates in a life to come . Lo the poor Indian ! whose untutor'd mind Sees God ALEXANDer pope . 85 Extracts from the Essay on Man Book I.
... , but always to be blest . The soul ( uneasy , and confin'd ) from home , Rests and expatiates in a life to come . Lo the poor Indian ! whose untutor'd mind Sees God ALEXANDer pope . 85 Extracts from the Essay on Man Book I.
Página 86
... blest abodes , Men would be angels , angels would be Gods . Aspiring to be Gods , if angels fell , Aspiring to be angels , men rebel : And who but wishes to invert the laws Of order , sins against th ' Eternal Cause . Ask for what end ...
... blest abodes , Men would be angels , angels would be Gods . Aspiring to be Gods , if angels fell , Aspiring to be angels , men rebel : And who but wishes to invert the laws Of order , sins against th ' Eternal Cause . Ask for what end ...
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Términos y frases comunes
admiration Æsop Ambrose Philips beauty beneath blank verse bless blest born breast breath Castle of Indolence charms couplet court criticism death delight Dunciad English English poetry Epistle Essay Essay on Criticism Ev'n ev'ry eyes fair fame fate fool frae genius GEORGE SAINTSBURY glory grace grave Gray Grongar Hill hand happy heart heaven Horace kings knave labour literary live Lord Lord Hervey mind moral muse nature ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er once passion Pindaric pleasure poem poet poet's poetical poetry Pope Pope's pow'rs praise pride prose rhyme rise round satire sense shade shine sing smile song soul spirit Spleen style sweet Swift taste tell thee things thou thought thro toil trembling truth turns Twas verse virtue Whig wind wise write youth
Pasajes populares
Página 604 - Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me: "Pipe a song about a Lamb!' So I piped with merry cheer. 'Piper, pipe that song again;
Página 375 - Here, as I take my solitary rounds, Amidst thy tangling walks, and ruined grounds, And, many a year elapsed, return to view Where once the cottage stood, the hawthorn grew, Remembrance wakes with all her busy train, Swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain. In all my wanderings round this world of care, In all my griefs — and God has given my share...
Página 478 - Affectionate, a mother lost so long, 1 will obey, not willingly alone, But gladly, as the precept were her own ; And, while that face renews my filial grief, Fancy shall weave a charm for my relief, Shall steep me in Elysian reverie, A momentary dream that thou art she.
Página 561 - I'll wage thee. Who shall say that fortune grieves him, While the star of hope she leaves him ? Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me ; Dark despair around benights me. I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy, Naething could resist my Nancy ; But to see her was to love her ; Love but her, and love for ever. Had we never loved sae kindly, Had we never loved sae blindly, Never met or never parted, We had ne'er been broken-hearted.
Página 479 - Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss — Ah, that maternal smile ! It answers — Yes. I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day, I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away, And, turning from my nursery window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu l But was it such ? — It was.
Página 534 - What makes the youth sae bashfu' an' sae grave: Weel pleased to think her bairn's respected like the lave. O happy love! where love like this is found! O heartfelt raptures! bliss beyond compare! I've paced much this weary, mortal round, And sage experience bids me this declare: — If Heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare, One cordial in this melancholy vale, 'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair In other's arms breathe out the tender tale, Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the...
Página 562 - O' my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloomed the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn's blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasped her to my bosom ! The golden hours, on angel wings, Flew o'er me and my dearie ; . For dear to me, as light and life, \ Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi' monie a vow, and locked embrace, Our parting was fu...
Página 536 - O Scotia! my dear, my native soil! For whom my warmest wish to Heaven is sent, Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content! And...
Página 474 - It was not in the battle ; No tempest gave the shock ; She sprang no fatal leak ; She ran upon no rock. His sword was in its sheath, His fingers held the pen, When Kempenfelt went down With twice four hundred men. Weigh the vessel up, Once dreaded by our foes ! And mingle with our cup The tear that England owes.
Página 381 - Here Reynolds is laid, and, to tell you my mind, He has not left a wiser or better behind ; His pencil was striking, resistless, and grand, His manners were gentle, complying, and bland : Still born to improve us in every part, His pencil our faces, his manners our heart.