The British anthology; or, Poetical library, Volúmenes7-8 |
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Resultados 1-5 de 29
Página 11
... a nauseous mass Of all obscene , corrupt , offensive things . Much moisture hurts ; but here a sordid bath , With oily rancour fraught , relaxes more The solid frame than simple moisture can . Besides , ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH . 11.
... a nauseous mass Of all obscene , corrupt , offensive things . Much moisture hurts ; but here a sordid bath , With oily rancour fraught , relaxes more The solid frame than simple moisture can . Besides , ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH . 11.
Página 24
... thing ; nor on the skin display'd , Felt in the pulse , nor in the habit seen ; Which finds a poison in the food that most The temperature affects . There are , whose blood Impetuous rages through the turgid veins , Who better bear the ...
... thing ; nor on the skin display'd , Felt in the pulse , nor in the habit seen ; Which finds a poison in the food that most The temperature affects . There are , whose blood Impetuous rages through the turgid veins , Who better bear the ...
Página 27
... things . The unbounded taste I mean not to confine To hermit's diet needlessly severe . But would you long the sweets of health enjoy , Or husband pleasure ; at one impious meal Exhaust not half the bounties of the year , Of every realm ...
... things . The unbounded taste I mean not to confine To hermit's diet needlessly severe . But would you long the sweets of health enjoy , Or husband pleasure ; at one impious meal Exhaust not half the bounties of the year , Of every realm ...
Página 48
... things have their bounds ; and he who makes By daily use the kindest regimen Essential to his health , should never mix With human kind , nor art nor trade pursue . He not the safe vicissitudes of life Without some shock endures ; ill ...
... things have their bounds ; and he who makes By daily use the kindest regimen Essential to his health , should never mix With human kind , nor art nor trade pursue . He not the safe vicissitudes of life Without some shock endures ; ill ...
Página 59
... things , Already sung ; it now remains to trace What good , what evil , from ourselves proceeds : And how the subtle principle within Inspires with health , or mines with strange decay The passive body . Ye poetic Shades , Who know the ...
... things , Already sung ; it now remains to trace What good , what evil , from ourselves proceeds : And how the subtle principle within Inspires with health , or mines with strange decay The passive body . Ye poetic Shades , Who know the ...
Términos y frases comunes
Amang Aspasio auld auld lang syne bard beneath birks of Aberfeldy blast blate blithe blood bloom bonnie bosom braes brave breast breath BRIG charms chyle Cutty-sark dear dearie death deil delight ev'n fair fame fancy Farewell fate fear flowers frae Gilpin grace green groves Halloween hear heart Heaven hope hour ilka JOHN GILPIN JOHN SHARPE labour lass lassie life's lo'es mair Mary maun mind mony morning mourn Muse Nature's ne'er never night numbers o'er owre pain peace pleasure poor pride rage roar round scenes seem'd shade shine sing skies smile song soon soul spring stream sugh sweet TAM O'SHANTER taste tears tender thee There's thine thou toil TUNE-The Twas wander waste wave weary weel Whyles wild winds winter wretch young Jessie youth
Pasajes populares
Página 8 - Then kneeling down to Heaven's Eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays; Hope 'springs exulting on triumphant wing,' That thus they all shall meet in future days, There ever bask in uncreated rays, No more to sigh or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise, In such society, yet still more dear, While circling Time moves round in an eternal sphere.
Página 7 - Like streamer long and gay, Till loop and button failing both, At last it flew away. Then might all people well discern The bottles he had slung, A bottle swinging at each side As hath been said or sung. The dogs did bark, the children screamed, Up flew the windows all, And every soul cried out, Well done ! As loud as he could bawl.
Página 12 - I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day, I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away, And, turning from my nursery window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu ! But was it such ? It was. Where thou art gone Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown : May I but meet thee on that peaceful shore, The parting word shall pass my lips no more...
Página 12 - Dupe of to-morrow even from a child. Thus many a sad to-morrow came and went, Till, all my stock of infant sorrow spent, I learned at last submission to my lot ; But, though I less deplored thee, ne'er forgot. Where once we dwelt our name is heard no more, Children not thine have trod my nursery floor ; And where the gardener Robin, day by day, Drew me to school along the public way, Delighted with my bauble coach, and wrapped In scarlet mantle warm, and velvet capped, Tis now become a history little...
Página 33 - I'm truly sorry man's dominion. Has broken nature's social union, An' justifies that ill opinion, Which makes thee startle At me, thy poor earth-born companion, An...
Página 33 - How fleet is a glance of the mind! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there; But alas! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair.
Página 9 - Inclined to tarry there ; For why ? — his owner had a house Full ten miles off, at Ware. So like an arrow swift he flew, Shot by an archer strong ; So did he fly — which brings me to The middle of my song. Away went Gilpin out of breath, And sore against his will, Till at his friend the calender's His horse at last stood still.
Página 30 - Thy snawie bosom sun-ward spread, Thou lifts thy unassuming head In humble guise; But now the share uptears thy bed, And low thou lies! Such is the fate of artless maid, Sweet floweret of the rural shade ! By love's simplicity betray'd, And guileless trust, Till she, like thee, all soil'd, is laid Low i
Página 29 - His sword was in its sheath, His fingers held the pen, When Kempenfelt went down With twice four hundred men. — Weigh the vessel up Once dreaded by our foes! And mingle with our cup The tears that England owes. Her timbers yet are sound, And she may float again Full charged with England's thunder, And plough the distant main: But Kempenfelt is gone, His victories are o'er; And he and his eight hundred Shall plough the wave no more.
Página 30 - Unskilful he to note the card Of prudent lore, Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, And whelm him o'er! Such fate to suffering worth is...