The poetical works of William Collins, with the comm. of Langhorne. To which is prefixed some account of the life of Collins by dr. Johnson1804 |
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Página 18
... sighs ; And Love the last : by these your hearts approve ; These are the virtues that must lead to love . Thus sung the swain ; and ancient legends say The maids of Bagdat verified the lay : Dear to the plains , the Virtues came along ...
... sighs ; And Love the last : by these your hearts approve ; These are the virtues that must lead to love . Thus sung the swain ; and ancient legends say The maids of Bagdat verified the lay : Dear to the plains , the Virtues came along ...
Página 19
... 'd the winds , and dreary was the view ! With desperate sorrow wild , the affrighted man Thrice sigh'd ; thrice struck his breast ; and thus began : " Sad was the hour , and luckless was the 19 Hassan; or, The Camel-Driver.
... 'd the winds , and dreary was the view ! With desperate sorrow wild , the affrighted man Thrice sigh'd ; thrice struck his breast ; and thus began : " Sad was the hour , and luckless was the 19 Hassan; or, The Camel-Driver.
Página 22
... sighs could not detain ; " Whom Zara's breaking heart implor'd in vain ! " Yet , as thou go'st , may every blast arise " Weak and unfelt , as these rejected sighs ! “ Safe o'er the wild , no perils may'st thou 22.
... sighs could not detain ; " Whom Zara's breaking heart implor'd in vain ! " Yet , as thou go'st , may every blast arise " Weak and unfelt , as these rejected sighs ! “ Safe o'er the wild , no perils may'st thou 22.
Página 34
... sighing prompt her tender hand , With each disastrous tale . There let me oft , retir'd by day , In dreams of passion melt away , Allow'd with thee to dwell : There waste the mournful lamp of night , Till , Virgin , thou again delight ...
... sighing prompt her tender hand , With each disastrous tale . There let me oft , retir'd by day , In dreams of passion melt away , Allow'd with thee to dwell : There waste the mournful lamp of night , Till , Virgin , thou again delight ...
Página 37
William Collins John Langhorne. Wrapt in thy cloudy veil , th ' incestuous3 queen Sigh'd the sad call her son and husband heard , When once alone it broke the silent scene , And he the wretch of Thebes no more appear'd . O Fear , I know ...
William Collins John Langhorne. Wrapt in thy cloudy veil , th ' incestuous3 queen Sigh'd the sad call her son and husband heard , When once alone it broke the silent scene , And he the wretch of Thebes no more appear'd . O Fear , I know ...
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The Poetical Works of William Collins, with the Comm. of Langhorne. to Which ... William Collins Sin vista previa disponible - 2016 |
Términos y frases comunes
Abra lov'd AGIB allegorical ancient ANTISTROPHE bard beautiful blank verse blast blest boast breathe Brownie charm Circassia Collins CYMBELINE death delight dreary drest Druid dwell E'en epithalamium ev'ry eyes fair fairy Fancy fear flowers fond genius Georgian maid golden hair Greece green grief grove hail hand happy haste haunt hear heard heart Hebrides hour imagery isle John Sharpe luckless lyre lyric magic maid like Abra midst mind moral mountains mourn mov'd murmurs muse myrtles native nature Ne'er numbers Nymph o'er Oriental Eclogues passions pastoral Pity Pity's plain poems poet poet's poetical poetry Polynices rage round royal Abbas rural scene Schiraz sentiment shade shepherds sighs SIR THOMAS HANMER soft song Sophocles sounds springs strain sullen sung swain sweet tears tender thee Theocritus thou thought toil truth vale verse virtue voice of Peace watchet wild wizzard youth εν
Pasajes populares
Página 72 - And though sometimes, each dreary pause between, Dejected Pity, at his side, Her soul-subduing voice applied, Yet still he kept his wild unaltered mien, While each strained ball of sight seemed bursting from his head.
Página 71 - tis said, when all were fired, Fill'd with fury, rapt, inspired, From the supporting myrtles round They snatch'd her instruments of sound,' And, as they oft had heard apart Sweet lessons of her forceful art, Each (for madness ruled the hour) Would prove his own expressive power, FIRST Fear his hand, its skill to try, Amid the chords bewilder'd laid, And back recoil'd, he knew not why, E'en at the sound himself had made.
Página 46 - How sleep the Brave who sink to rest By all their country's wishes blest! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.
Página 70 - When Music, heavenly maid, was young, While yet in early Greece she sung, The Passions oft, to hear her shell, Thronged around her magic cell...
Página 85 - No wither'd witch shall here be seen, No goblins lead their nightly crew ; The female fays shall haunt the green, And dress thy grave with pearly dew. The redbreast oft at evening hours Shall kindly lend his little aid, With hoary moss and gather'd flowers, To deck the ground where thou art laid.
Página 138 - Who slept in buds the day, And many a nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge, And sheds the freshening dew, and lovelier still, The pensive pleasures sweet Prepare thy shadowy car.
Página 45 - While on its rich ambitious head, An Eden, like his own, lies spread. I view that oak, the fancied glades among, By which as Milton lay, his evening ear, From many a cloud that dropp'd ethereal dew, Nigh spher'd in heaven, its native strains could hear...
Página 8 - That this man, wise and virtuous as he was, passed always unentangled through the snares of life, it would be prejudice and temerity to affirm; but it may be said that at least he preserved the source of action unpolluted, that his principles were never shaken, that his distinctions of right and wrong were never confounded, and that his faults had nothing of malignity or design, but proceeded from some unexpected pressure, or casual temptation.
Página 142 - twas wild. But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair, What was thy delighted measure ! Still it whispered promised pleasure, And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail...
Página 22 - What if the lion in his rage I meet ! Oft in the dust I view his printed feet : And fearful ! oft, when day's declining light Yields her pale empire to the mourner night, By hunger...