English Poets of the Eighteenth CenturyErnest Bernbaum C. Scribner's Sons, 1918 - 364 Seiten |
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Seite x
... . 91 JOHN DYER GRONGAR HILL ( 1726 ) 92 22 GEORGE BERKELEY VERSES ON THE PROSPECT OF PLANTING ARTS AND LEARNING IN AMERICA ( WR . c . 1726 ; PUBL . 1752 ) 96 PAGE JAMES THOMSON THE SEASONS ( 1726-30 ) WINTER , X CONTENTS.
... . 91 JOHN DYER GRONGAR HILL ( 1726 ) 92 22 GEORGE BERKELEY VERSES ON THE PROSPECT OF PLANTING ARTS AND LEARNING IN AMERICA ( WR . c . 1726 ; PUBL . 1752 ) 96 PAGE JAMES THOMSON THE SEASONS ( 1726-30 ) WINTER , X CONTENTS.
Seite xvi
... HILL ( 1783 ) TO THE MUSES ( 1783 ) • INTRODUCTION TO SONGS OF INNOCENCE ( 1789 ) THE LAMB ( 1789 ) . THE LITTLE BLACK Box ( 1789 ) A CRADLE SONG ( 1789 ) HOLY THURSDAY ( 1789 ) 317 · 319 319 320 · 320 321 322 • 322 323 THE DIVINE IMAGE ...
... HILL ( 1783 ) TO THE MUSES ( 1783 ) • INTRODUCTION TO SONGS OF INNOCENCE ( 1789 ) THE LAMB ( 1789 ) . THE LITTLE BLACK Box ( 1789 ) A CRADLE SONG ( 1789 ) HOLY THURSDAY ( 1789 ) 317 · 319 319 320 · 320 321 322 • 322 323 THE DIVINE IMAGE ...
Seite 20
... hills in order stood , Or earth received her frame , From everlasting Thou art God , To endless years the same . A thousand ages in Thy sight Are like an evening gone ; Short as the watch that ends the night Before the rising sun . Time ...
... hills in order stood , Or earth received her frame , From everlasting Thou art God , To endless years the same . A thousand ages in Thy sight Are like an evening gone ; Short as the watch that ends the night Before the rising sun . Time ...
Seite 26
... Hills peep o'er hills , and Alps on Alps arise ! A perfect judge will read each work of wit With the same spirit that its author writ : Survey the whole , nor seek slight faults to find Where nature moves , and rapture warms the mind ...
... Hills peep o'er hills , and Alps on Alps arise ! A perfect judge will read each work of wit With the same spirit that its author writ : Survey the whole , nor seek slight faults to find Where nature moves , and rapture warms the mind ...
Seite 44
... hill , an humbler Heaven ; Some safer world in depths of woods embraced , Some happier island in the watery waste , Where slaves once more their native land behold , No fiends torment , no Christians thirst for gold . To be , contents ...
... hill , an humbler Heaven ; Some safer world in depths of woods embraced , Some happier island in the watery waste , Where slaves once more their native land behold , No fiends torment , no Christians thirst for gold . To be , contents ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
AUGUSTUS MONTAGU TOPLADY auld auld lang syne bard beauty beneath blessed blest bliss breast breath charms clouds crown dear delight divine dread e'er earth eternal fair fame fancy fate fear Fingal flowers folly fools frae gale grace grave Grongar Hill hand happy hear heart Heaven hill human JOHN GILBERT COOPER king labour live Lubberkin lyre Matthew Prior mind moral murmurs Muse nature Nature's ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er Ossian pain passions peace plain pleasing pleasure poet poor praise pride proud rage raptures RICHARD JAGO rills rise round scene shade shine sigh sing skelpin smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spread spring swain sweet tears thee thine thou thought toil trembling truth Twas vale virtue voice wandering wave wild wind wings wretch wyllowe youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 183 - THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Seite 218 - As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm ; Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.
Seite 185 - Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife Their sober wishes never learned to stray ; Along the cool sequestered vale of life They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.
Seite 236 - Nothing in my hand I bring, Simply to thy cross I cling ; Naked, come to Thee for dress ; Helpless, look to Thee for grace ; Foul, I to the Fountain fly, Wash me, Saviour, or I die...
Seite 143 - Other refuge have I none, Hangs my helpless soul on thee. Leave, ah leave me not alone, Still support and comfort me. All my trust on thee is stayed, All my help from thee I bring; Cover my defenceless head With the shadow of thy wing.
Seite 184 - Await alike the inevitable hour. The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, If memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death...
Seite 160 - How sleep the Brave T_TOW sleep the brave, who sink to rest By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallow'd mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung; By forms unseen their dirge is sung ; There Honour comes, a pilgrim grey, To bless the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall awhile repair To dwell, a weeping hermit, there...
Seite 269 - I would not enter on my list of friends (Though graced with polished manners and fine sense. Yet wanting sensibility) the man Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.
Seite 215 - Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates and men decay : Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade ; A breath can make them as a breath has made : But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroyed, can never be supplied.
Seite 61 - Dreading e'en fools, by flatterers besieged, And so obliging, that he ne'er obliged; Like Cato, give his little senate laws, And sit attentive to his own applause; While wits and Templars every sentence raise, And wonder with a foolish face of praise — Who but must laugh, if such a man there be? Who would not weep, if Atticus were he? What though my name stood rubric on the walls, Or plaster'd posts, with claps, in capitals? Or smoking forth, a hundred hawkers load, On wings of winds came flying...