Translations and imitationsJ. and P. Knapton, H. Lintot, J. and R. Tonson, and S. Draper, 1751 |
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Seite 10
... , formofe , relabere noftros : 105 Non ut ames oro , verum ut amare finas . Scribimus , et lacrymis oculi rorantur obortis : Afpice , quam fit in hoc multa litura loco . 90 For whom should Sappho ufe fuch arts as these ΙΟ SAP PHO PHAONI .
... , formofe , relabere noftros : 105 Non ut ames oro , verum ut amare finas . Scribimus , et lacrymis oculi rorantur obortis : Afpice , quam fit in hoc multa litura loco . 90 For whom should Sappho ufe fuch arts as these ΙΟ SAP PHO PHAONI .
Seite 11
... these arms , and melt in this embrace ! The vows you never will return , receive ; And take at least the love you will not give . See , while I write , my words are lost in tears ; The less my fenfe , the more my love appears . 110 110 ...
... these arms , and melt in this embrace ! The vows you never will return , receive ; And take at least the love you will not give . See , while I write , my words are lost in tears ; The less my fenfe , the more my love appears . 110 110 ...
Seite 21
... these rocks than to thy bofom preft ? 225 This breaft which once , in vain ! you lik'd fo well ; Where the Loves play'd , and where the Muses dwell . Alas ! the Mufes now no more infpire , Untun'd my lute , and filent is my lyre , Non ...
... these rocks than to thy bofom preft ? 225 This breaft which once , in vain ! you lik'd fo well ; Where the Loves play'd , and where the Muses dwell . Alas ! the Mufes now no more infpire , Untun'd my lute , and filent is my lyre , Non ...
Seite 23
... these fond eyes reftore thy welcome fails ? If you return --- ah why these long delays ? Poor Sappho dies while careless Phaon stays . O launch thy bark , nor fear the watʼry plain ; 250 Venus for thee shall smooth her native main ...
... these fond eyes reftore thy welcome fails ? If you return --- ah why these long delays ? Poor Sappho dies while careless Phaon stays . O launch thy bark , nor fear the watʼry plain ; 250 Venus for thee shall smooth her native main ...
Seite 29
... these lips in holy filence feal'd : 10 Hide it , my heart , within that close disguise , .. Where mix'd with God's , his lov'd Idea lies : --- O write it not my hand the name appears Already written wash it out , my tears ! --- 1 In ...
... these lips in holy filence feal'd : 10 Hide it , my heart , within that close disguise , .. Where mix'd with God's , his lov'd Idea lies : --- O write it not my hand the name appears Already written wash it out , my tears ! --- 1 In ...
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Beliebte Passagen
Seite 30 - But o'er the twilight groves and dusky caves, Long-sounding aisles, and intermingled graves, Black Melancholy sits, and round her throws A death-like silence., and a dread repose: Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene, Shades ev'ry flow'r, and darkens ev'ry green, Deepens the murmur of the falling floods, And breathes a browner horror on the woods.
Seite 28 - With other beauties charm my partial eyes, Full in my view fet all the bright abode, And make my foul quit Abelard for God.
Seite 25 - Yet write, oh write me all, that I may join Griefs to thy griefs, and echo sighs to thine. Nor foes nor fortune take this power away ; And is my Abelard less kind than they?
Seite 35 - Ah, come not, write not, think not once of me, Nor share one pang of all I felt for thee. Thy oaths I quit, thy memory resign ; Forget, renounce me, hate whate'er was mine.
Seite 38 - If ever chance two wand'ring lovers brings To Paraclete's white walls and silver springs, O'er the pale marble shall they join their heads, And...
Seite 28 - Still on that breast enamour'd let me lie, Still drink delicious poison from thy eye, Pant on thy lip, and to thy heart be press'd; Give all thou canst — and let me dream the rest.
Seite 37 - I come, I come ! prepare your roseate bowers. Celestial palms, and ever-blooming flowers. Thither, where sinners may have rest, I go, Where flames refin'd in breasts seraphic glow : Thou, Abelard ! the last sad office pay, And smooth my passage to the realms of day : See my lips tremble, and my eye-balls roll, Suck my last breath, and catch my flying soul ! Ah...
Seite 30 - The darksome pines that o'er yon rocks reclin'd Wave high, and murmur to the hollow wind, The wand'ring streams that shine between the hills, The grots that echo to the tinkling rills, The dying gales that pant upon the trees, The lakes that quiver to the curling breeze; No more these scenes my meditation aid, Or lull to rest the visionary maid.
Seite 15 - And softly lay me on the waves below! And thou, kind Love, my sinking limbs sustain, Spread thy soft wings, and waft me o'er the main, Nor let a lover's death the guiltless flood profane! On Phoebus...
Seite 48 - Critics I saw, that other names deface, And fix their own, with labour, in their place : Their own, like others, soon their place resign'd, Or disappear'd. and left the first behind. Nor was the work impair'd by storms alone, But felt th...