Poetry and Poets: A Collection of the Choicest Anecdotes Relative to the Poets of Every Age and Nation. With Specimens of Their Works and Sketches of Their Biography, Bind 3Sherwood, Gilbert, & Piper, 1826 - 305 sider |
Fra bogen
Resultater 1-5 af 30
Side 11
... thou may'st a thought bestow , Thank Him without whose aid no good from man can flow . If errors meet thy view , remember kindly then What gathering clouds obscure the feeble eyes of men ; And rather spare than blame this humble work of ...
... thou may'st a thought bestow , Thank Him without whose aid no good from man can flow . If errors meet thy view , remember kindly then What gathering clouds obscure the feeble eyes of men ; And rather spare than blame this humble work of ...
Side 32
... thou wilt , so be the King hath his commandment given , Deny me not confession - if so , forgive ye , heaven . Much griev'd the bowman for her tears and for her beauty's sake , While thus Queen Blanche of Bourbon her last complaint did ...
... thou wilt , so be the King hath his commandment given , Deny me not confession - if so , forgive ye , heaven . Much griev'd the bowman for her tears and for her beauty's sake , While thus Queen Blanche of Bourbon her last complaint did ...
Side 41
... thou regret thy youth , why live ? The land of honourable death Is here . Up to the field and give Away thy breath . Awake ! not Greece , she is awake ! Awake ! my spirit . ' " He died on the 19th April , at six POETRY AND POETS . 41.
... thou regret thy youth , why live ? The land of honourable death Is here . Up to the field and give Away thy breath . Awake ! not Greece , she is awake ! Awake ! my spirit . ' " He died on the 19th April , at six POETRY AND POETS . 41.
Side 75
... Thou that beneath its crowning foliage sleepest , And , in the stillness of thy Country's breast , Thy place of memory , as an altar , keepest ! Brightly thy spirit o'er her hills was pour'd , Thou of the Lyre and Sword ! Rest , Bard ...
... Thou that beneath its crowning foliage sleepest , And , in the stillness of thy Country's breast , Thy place of memory , as an altar , keepest ! Brightly thy spirit o'er her hills was pour'd , Thou of the Lyre and Sword ! Rest , Bard ...
Side 76
... Thou hast a hero's tomb ! -A lowlier bed Is hers , the gentle girl , beside thee lying , The gentle girl , that bow'd her fair young head , When thou wert gone , in silent sorrow dying . Brother ! true friend ! the tender and the brave ...
... Thou hast a hero's tomb ! -A lowlier bed Is hers , the gentle girl , beside thee lying , The gentle girl , that bow'd her fair young head , When thou wert gone , in silent sorrow dying . Brother ! true friend ! the tender and the brave ...
Andre udgaver - Se alle
Almindelige termer og sætninger
Addison admired afterwards Bard beautiful Ben Jonson called Carolan carols celebrated child Christmas Church Commissary composed cronike Davenant death delight died doth Dryden elegant English eyes faithful friends renewing father favourite five pounds Fontaine Gascoigne genius George Gascoigne GEORGE PEELE give grace guineas coin hands happy hath heart Heywood Hindoo honour Iliad JACOB CATS JOHN HEYWOOD Johnson JOSEPH RITSON Khemnitzer King lady lived Lord Lord Halifax merry METASTASIO Milton Moore mounting feathers Muse never noble NONSENSE VERSES o'er Ovid Paradise Lost Peele Petrarch piece Piron play pleasure poem Poet poetical poetry Pope praise priests reader Savage says Shakspeare shew sing smile song sonnets soul specimen Spenser spirit Street sung Surville sweet sword Tarlton taste thee thing thou thought tion took Torquatus translation Vaucluse verses Voltaire wife write written wrote young youth
Populære passager
Side 166 - Full little knowest thou, that hast not tried, What hell it is in suing long to bide ; To lose good days that might be better spent ; To waste long nights in pensive discontent; To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow ; To feed on hope ; to pine with fear and sorrow ; To have thy Prince's grace, yet want her peers...
Side 109 - The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage! My Shakespeare, rise! I will not lodge thee by Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie A little further, to make thee a room: Thou art a monument without a tomb, And art alive still while thy book doth live And we have wits to read and praise to give.
Side 108 - Many were the wit-combats betwixt him and Ben Jonson, which two I behold like a Spanish great galleon, and an English man-of-war ; Master Jonson (like the former) was built far higher in learning ; solid, but slow in his performances. Shakespeare...
Side 108 - English man-ofwar, lesser in bulk, but lighter in sailing, could turn with all tides, tack about and take advantage of all winds, by the quickness of his wit and invention.
Side 171 - IN going to my naked bed, as one that would have slept, I heard a wife sing to her child, that long before had wept. She sighed sore, and sang full sweet to bring the babe to rest, That would not cease, but cried still, in sucking at her breast. .She was full weary of her watch, and grieved with her child; She rocked it, and rated it, till that on her it smiled. Then did she say, "Now have I found this proverb true to prove, The falling out of faithful friends, renewing is of love.
Side 288 - When the tired hedger hies him home > Or by the woodland pool to rest, When pale the star looks on its breast Yet when the silent evening sighs, With hallow'd airs and symphonies, My spirit takes another tone, And sighs that it is all alone.
Side 85 - HAPPY is England ! I could be content To see no other verdure than its own; To feel no other breezes than are blown Through its tall woods with high romances blent : Yet do I sometimes feel a languishment For skies Italian, and an inward groan To sit upon an Alp as on a throne, And half forget what world or worldling meant. Happy is England, sweet her artless daughters; Enough their simple loveliness for me, Enough their whitest arms in silence clinging: Yet do I often warmly...
Side 61 - Eternal King, That did us all salvation bring, And freed the soul from danger; He whom the whole world could not take, The Word, which heaven and earth did make, Was now laid in a manger. The Father's wisdom willed it so, The Son's obedience knew no No, Both wills were in one stature ; And as that wisdom had decreed, The Word was now made Flesh indeed, And took on him our nature.
Side 240 - One day as the king was walking in the Mall, and talking with Dryden, he said, ' If I was a poet, (and I think I am poor enough to be one,) I would write a poem on such a subject in the following manner,' and then gave him the plan for it.
Side 226 - FLUTTERING spread thy purple pinions. Gentle Cupid, o'er my heart ; I a slave in thy dominions ; Nature must give way to art. Mild Arcadians, ever blooming, Nightly nodding o'er your flocks, See my weary days consuming, All beneath yon flowery rocks.