Anthologia Anglica, a new selection from the English poets from Spenser to Shelley, with short literary notices by H. Williams |
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Página 27
... blood Of Greeks and Trojans which therein did die ; Pactolus glistering with his golden flood : And Tigris fierce , whose streams of none may be with- stood ; ΧΧΙ Great Ganges , and immortal Euphrates , Deep Indus , and Mæander ...
... blood Of Greeks and Trojans which therein did die ; Pactolus glistering with his golden flood : And Tigris fierce , whose streams of none may be with- stood ; ΧΧΙ Great Ganges , and immortal Euphrates , Deep Indus , and Mæander ...
Página 39
... blood ; If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound , Or any air of music touch their ears , You shall perceive them make a mutual stand , Their savage eyes turned to a modest gaze By the sweet power of music : therefore the poet Did ...
... blood ; If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound , Or any air of music touch their ears , You shall perceive them make a mutual stand , Their savage eyes turned to a modest gaze By the sweet power of music : therefore the poet Did ...
Página 40
... blood , Whether , if you yield not to your father's choice , You can endure the livery of a nun , For aye to be in shady cloister mewed , To live a barren sister all your life , Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon . Thrice ...
... blood , Whether , if you yield not to your father's choice , You can endure the livery of a nun , For aye to be in shady cloister mewed , To live a barren sister all your life , Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon . Thrice ...
Página 49
... blood and bone Can gripe the sacred handle of our sceptre , Unless he do profane , steal , or usurp . And though you think that all , as you have done , Have torn their souls by turning them from us , And we are barren and bereft of ...
... blood and bone Can gripe the sacred handle of our sceptre , Unless he do profane , steal , or usurp . And though you think that all , as you have done , Have torn their souls by turning them from us , And we are barren and bereft of ...
Página 67
... an aversion for everything that is apt to disturb its placid contentment with the general arrangement of things in ' this best of all possible worlds . ' Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood ! Be it F 2 SHAKESPEARE . 67.
... an aversion for everything that is apt to disturb its placid contentment with the general arrangement of things in ' this best of all possible worlds . ' Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood ! Be it F 2 SHAKESPEARE . 67.
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Anthologia Anglica, a New Selection from the English Poets from Spenser to ... Anthologia Anglica Sin vista previa disponible - 2019 |
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Pasajes populares
Página 58 - A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought; And, with a green and yellow melancholy, She sat like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief.
Página 34 - The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slippered pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
Página 280 - Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply: And many a holy text around she strews That teach the rustic moralist to die. For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd, Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing lingering look behind?
Página 163 - Thus with the year Seasons return; but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine...
Página 432 - He has outsoared the shadow of our night ; Envy and calumny and hate and pain, And that unrest which men miscall delight, Can touch him not and torture not again.
Página 143 - HENCE, loathed Melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born In Stygian cave forlorn 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy ! Find out some uncouth cell Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings And the night-raven sings ; There under ebon shades, and low-brow'd rocks As ragged as thy locks, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.
Página 215 - A man so various that he seemed to be Not one, but all mankind's epitome : Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong, Was everything by starts and nothing long; But in the course of one revolving moon Was chymist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon; Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking, Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking.
Página 76 - Who is Silvia ? what is she, That all our swains commend her ? Holy, fair and wise is she ; The heaven such grace did lend her That she might admired be. Is she kind as she is fair ? for beauty lives with kindness : Love doth to her eyes repair, To help him of his blindness ; And, being help'd, inhabits there. Then to Silvia let us sing, That Silvia is excelling ; She excels each mortal thing Upon the dull earth dwelling ; To her let us garlands bring.
Página 277 - Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude Forefathers of the hamlet sleep. The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
Página 32 - All the images of nature were still present to him, and he drew them not laboriously, but luckily. When he describes anything, you more than see it, you feel it too. Those who accuse him to have wanted learning give him the greater commendation. He was naturally learned. He needed not the spectacles of books to read nature. He looked inwards, and found her there.