Poems on Several Occasions: Written in the Eighteenth CenturyKathleen Winifred Campbell B. Blackwell, 1926 - 212 Seiten |
Im Buch
Ergebnisse 1-5 von 27
Seite 6
... leaves us no choice but to be generous and try to guide newcomers to the unob- trusive flowers whose delicate fragrance had long delighted us . We shall not have to deal with a crowd , for Augustan poetry will never be popular . It is ...
... leaves us no choice but to be generous and try to guide newcomers to the unob- trusive flowers whose delicate fragrance had long delighted us . We shall not have to deal with a crowd , for Augustan poetry will never be popular . It is ...
Seite 11
... leave to write I fear , And we shall still continue friends . For as our diff'rent ages move , ' Tis so ordained , wou'd fate but mend it , That I shall be past making love , When she begins to comprehend it . MATTHEW PRIOR . THE DAY OF ...
... leave to write I fear , And we shall still continue friends . For as our diff'rent ages move , ' Tis so ordained , wou'd fate but mend it , That I shall be past making love , When she begins to comprehend it . MATTHEW PRIOR . THE DAY OF ...
Seite 22
... Leaves are seen ; When freshen'd Grass now bears itself upright , And makes cool Banks to pleasing Rest invite , Whence springs the Woodbind , and the Bramble - Rose , And where the sleepy Cowslip shelter'd grows ; Whilst now a paler ...
... Leaves are seen ; When freshen'd Grass now bears itself upright , And makes cool Banks to pleasing Rest invite , Whence springs the Woodbind , and the Bramble - Rose , And where the sleepy Cowslip shelter'd grows ; Whilst now a paler ...
Seite 24
... leave thy Sweetheart true ! What I have done for thee , will Cic❜ly do ? Will she thy Linnen wash or Hosen darn , And knit thee Gloves made of her own - spun Yarn ? Will she with Huswife's Hand provide thy Meat , And ev'ry Sunday Morn ...
... leave thy Sweetheart true ! What I have done for thee , will Cic❜ly do ? Will she thy Linnen wash or Hosen darn , And knit thee Gloves made of her own - spun Yarn ? Will she with Huswife's Hand provide thy Meat , And ev'ry Sunday Morn ...
Seite 28
... leaves my Hand , see to the West he's flown , To call my True - love from the faithless Town . With my sharp Heel I three times mark the Ground , And turn me thrice around , around , around . " This mellow Pippin which I pare around My ...
... leaves my Hand , see to the West he's flown , To call my True - love from the faithless Town . With my sharp Heel I three times mark the Ground , And turn me thrice around , around , around . " This mellow Pippin which I pare around My ...
Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
ADORATION bard Beauty behold beneath bless blooming breast breathe charm chearful croud dame dear Death deep delight divine e'er Earth Ev'n ev'ry eyes fair Fame Fate fear flow'r Gales grace green Grongar Hill Groves Hand hear Heart Heav'n Heel I three Hill Hymns ISAAC WATTS JOHN BYROM JOHN GAY JONATHAN SWIFT King live Lord lov'd Love Lubberkin Maid MARK AKENSIDE mark the Ground MATTHEW PRIOR mighty Miscellany Muse ne'er never Night Numbers Nymph o'er passion peace pleas'd Pleasure Poems Poets Pope pow'r praise pride rise round Shade sharp Heel Shepherd sigh sing Sleep smiles soft Song Soul Spleen Spring Stanza stray Swain sweet swelling thee THOMAS HEARN Thomas Warton thou three times mark thro Tom D'Urfey tree turn me thrice twas Vale Verse Warwickshire ween WILLIAM WILLIAM SHENSTONE Wing wyllowe
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 46 - We'll crowd Thy gates with thankful songs, High as the heavens our voices raise And Earth, with her ten thousand tongues, Shall fill Thy courts with sounding praise. 5 Wide as the world is Thy command, Vast as eternity Thy love ; Firm as a rock Thy truth must stand, When rolling years shall cease to move.
Seite 107 - 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.
Seite 47 - A thousand Ages in thy Sight Are like an Evening gone ; Short as the Watch that ends the Night Before the rising Sun.
Seite 21 - And nightly to the list'ning earth Repeats the story of her birth : Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole.
Seite 74 - Or if you rather choose the rural shade, And find a fane in every sacred grove ; There let the shepherd's flute, the virgin's lay, The prompting seraph, and the poet's lyre, Still sing the God of Seasons as they roll.
Seite 74 - While cloud to cloud returns the solemn hymn, Bleat out afresh, ye hills ; ye mossy rocks, Retain the sound ; the broad responsive low, Ye valleys, raise ; for the Great Shepherd reigns, And his unsuffering kingdom yet will come. Ye woodlands all, awake; a boundless song Burst from the groves ! and when the restless day, Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep, Sweetest of birds ! sweet Philomela, charm The listening shades, and teach the night His praise.
Seite 52 - The boatswain gave the dreadful word, The sails their swelling bosom spread, No longer must she stay aboard ; They kiss'd, she sigh'd, he hung his head. Her lessening boat unwilling rows to land ; 'Adieu!
Seite 123 - Placed far amid the melancholy main, (Whether it be lone fancy him beguiles; Or that aerial beings sometimes deign To stand embodied, to our senses plain) Sees on the naked hill, or valley low, The whilst in ocean Phoebus dips his wain, A vast assembly moving to and fro: Then all at once in air dissolves the wondrous show.
Seite 98 - And in my breast the imperfect joys expire; Yet morning smiles the busy race to cheer, And new-born pleasure brings to happier men; The fields to all their wonted tribute bear; To warm their little loves the birds complain. I fruitless mourn to him that cannot hear, And weep the more because I weep in vain...
Seite 195 - CONDEMN'D to Hope's delusive mine, As on we toil from day to day, By sudden blast or slow decline Our social comforts drop away. Well try'd through many a varying year, See LEVETT to the grave descend; Officious, innocent, sincere, Of every friendless name the friend. Yet still he fills affection's eye, Obscurely wise, and coarsely kind, Nor, letter'd arrogance,' deny Thy praise to merit unrefin'd.