Theocritus in English LiteratureJ. P. Bell Company (Incorporated) printers, 1910 - 203 sider |
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admiration Adonis Allan Ramsay ALLUSION Anacreon ancient Arnold Author Date Ballads bard beautiful bees Bibliography Bion blank verse burlesque Calverley charm classic Cyclops Dactylic hexameter Daphnis delight Doric Dryden Eclogues edition English literature English poetry epic Epigrams essay flocks genius Gessner grace Greek Poets Heroic couplets hexameters Homer Ibid Idylls Idylls of Theocritus JOHN Latin lines literary Lycidas lyrical Matthew Arnold melody metre Moschus muse nature nymph o'er original paraphrase passages pastoral elegy Pastoral Poetry Pindar pipe poem poet poetic Polwhele Pope praise prose quoted rendering Review ritus rural rustic says scene Shepheards Calender shepherds Sicilian Sicily singer singing Sixe Idillia song Sonnet species Spenser spirit stanza Stedman swains sweet taste Tennyson Thalysia thee Theoc Theocritean Theocritus Theocritus and Virgil Theocritus's thou Thyrsis Town Eclogue translation of Theocritus true Virgil Warton WILLIAM Wordsworth writers
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Side 105 - I THOUGHT once how Theocritus had sung Of the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years, Who each one in a gracious hand appears • To bear a gift for mortals, old or young; • And, as I mused it in his antique . — - tongue, I saw in gradual vision, through my tears, • The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years, Those of my own life, who by turns had flung A shadow across me. Straightway I was 'ware, So weeping, how a mystic shape did move Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair; And a...
Side 93 - tis sweet to view on high The rainbow, based on ocean, span the sky. 'Tis sweet to hear the watch-dog's honest bark Bay deep-mouth'd welcome as we draw near home ; 'Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark Our coming, and look brighter when we come...
Side 104 - How he drove the bolted breath Through the cloud, to wedge it ponderous In the gnarled oak beneath. Oh, our Sophocles, the royal. Who was born to monarch's place — And who made the whole world loyal, Less by kingly power than grace. Our Euripides, the human — With his droppings of warm tears ; And his touches of things common, Till they rose to touch the spheres...
Side 86 - He early moulded my taste to the preference of Demosthenes to Cicero, of Homer and Theocritus to Virgil, and again of Virgil to Ovid. He habituated me to compare Lucretius (in such extracts as I then read), Terence, and, above all, the chaster poems of Catullus, not only with the Roman...
Side 64 - I have found out a gift for my fair; I have found where the wood-pigeons breed; But let me that plunder forbear, She will say 'twas a barbarous deed...
Side 77 - The following trifles are not the production of the poet, who, with all the advantages of learned art, and, perhaps, amid the elegancies and idlenesses of upper life, looks down for a rural theme, with an eye to Theocritus or Virgil. To the author of this, these and other celebrated names their countrymen are, in their original languages, a fountain shut up, and a book sealed.
Side 57 - I no longer look upon Theocritus as a romantic writer ; he has only given a plain image of the way of life amongst the peasants of his country...
Side 91 - Where wert thou, mighty Mother, when he lay, When thy Son lay, pierced by the shaft which flies In darkness? where was lorn Urania When Adonais died? With veiled eyes, 'Mid listening Echoes, in her Paradise She sate, while one, with soft...
Side 128 - Thou sang'st the simple feasts of old, — The beechen bowl made glad with wine . . . Thine was the happier Age of Gold. Thou bad'st the rustic loves be told, — Thou bad'st the tuneful reeds combine, O Singer of the field and fold ! And round thee, ever-laughing, rolled The blithe and blue Sicilian brine . . . Thine was the happier Age of Gold.
Side 58 - Tusculum revives in mine : Now to grave books I bid the mind retreat, And such as make me rather good than great ; Or o'er the works of easy fancy rove, Where flutes and innocence amuse the grove ; The native bard that on Sicilian plains First sung the lowly manners of the swains, Or Maro's Muse, that in the fairest light Paints...