A Jar of Honey from Mount Hybla |
Fra bogen
Side 171
It was a horrible spoiling of Virgil : - " Malo me Galatea petit , lasciva puella , Et fugit ad salices , et se cupit ante videri . " ECLOG . III . v . 64 . Thus translated by Dryden : - 66 My Phillis me with pelted apples plies ...
It was a horrible spoiling of Virgil : - " Malo me Galatea petit , lasciva puella , Et fugit ad salices , et se cupit ante videri . " ECLOG . III . v . 64 . Thus translated by Dryden : - 66 My Phillis me with pelted apples plies ...
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Vi har ikke fundet nogen anmeldelser de normale steder.
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Almindelige termer og sætninger
appear beautiful become bees better called Christmas contain delight door earth English Etna express eyes face feel flowers give given Greek ground half hand happy head hear heart honey human hundred interest island Italian Italy kind king King Robert language least leave live look lover means mind Mount mountain nature never observed once original passage pastoral perhaps persons picture pipe play poem poet poetry poor present Raise reader reading respect scene Scylla seems shepherd Sicilian Sicily side sing sitting song speak spirit story supposed sweet talk tears thee Theocritus things thou thought told trees true truth turn verses voice volume whole woods writer young
Populære passager
Side 106 - Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is past That shrunk thy streams; return, Sicilian Muse, And call the vales, and bid them hither cast Their bells and flowerets of a thousand hues. Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks; Throw hither all your quaint enamelled eyes That on the green turf suck the honeyed showers, And purple all the ground with vernal flowers.
Side 106 - Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine, The white pink, and the pansy freaked with jet, The glowing violet, The musk-rose, and the well-attired woodbine, With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears ; Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed, And daffodillies fill their cups with tears, To strew the laureate hearse where Lycid lies.
Side 102 - I sit by and sing, Or gather rushes, to make many a ring For thy long fingers; tell thee tales of love) How the pale Phoebe, hunting in a grove, First saw the boy Endymion, from whose eyes She took eternal fire that never dies; How she...
Side 94 - Dis's waggon! daffodils That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath...
Side 151 - For so work the honey bees : Creatures that, by a rule in nature, teach The act of order to a peopled kingdom. They have a king and officers of sorts : Where some, like magistrates, correct at home ; Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad ; Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds ; Which pillage they with merry march bring...
Side 155 - Ave Maria ! blessed be the hour ! The time, the clime, the spot, where I so oft Have felt that moment in its fullest power Sink o'er the earth so beautiful and soft, While swung the deep bell in the distant tower. Or the faint dying day-hymn stole aloft, And not a breath crept through the rosy air, And yet the forest leaves seem'd stirr'd with prayer.
Side 70 - He hath put down the mighty from their seat : and hath exalted the humble and meek.
Side 11 - A generous and impassioned review of the works of living painters. A hearty and earnest work, full of deep thought, and developing great and striking truths in art.
Side 144 - And every sweetness that inspired their hearts, Their minds, and muses on admired themes ; If all the heavenly quintessence they still From their immortal flowers of poesy, Wherein, as in a mirror, we perceive The highest reaches of a human wit ; If these had made one poem's period, And all combined in beauty's worthiness, Yet should there hover in their restless heads One thought, one grace, one wonder, at the least, Which into words no virtue can digest...
Side 124 - Here let me careless and unthoughtful lying, Hear the soft winds above me flying With all their wanton boughs dispute, And the more tuneful birds to both replying, Nor be myself too mute.
Bibliografiske oplysninger
| Titel | A Jar of Honey from Mount Hybla |
| Forfatter | Leigh Hunt |
| Udgiver | Smith, Elder,&Company, 1848 |
| Oprindeligt fra | Oxford University |
| Digitaliseret | 3. aug 2007 |
| Længde | 200 sider |
| Eksporter henvisning | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |