The British Poets: Including Translations ...C. Whittingham, 1822 |
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Página 8
... vain war Despise my navies , and my merchants seize ; As , trusting to false peace , they fearless roam The world of waters wild ; made , by the toil , And liberal blood of glorious ages , mine : Nor bursts my sleeping thunder on their ...
... vain war Despise my navies , and my merchants seize ; As , trusting to false peace , they fearless roam The world of waters wild ; made , by the toil , And liberal blood of glorious ages , mine : Nor bursts my sleeping thunder on their ...
Página 15
... vain . And may a public spirit from the throne , Where every virtue sits , go copious forth , Live o'er the land ! the finer arts inspire ; Make thoughtful Science raise his pensive head , Blow the fresh bay , bid Industry rejoice , And ...
... vain . And may a public spirit from the throne , Where every virtue sits , go copious forth , Live o'er the land ! the finer arts inspire ; Make thoughtful Science raise his pensive head , Blow the fresh bay , bid Industry rejoice , And ...
Página 26
... vain , and idly toil . In vain , forlorn in wilds , the citron blows ; And flowering plants perfume the desert gale . Through the vile thorn the tender myrtle twines : Inglorious droops the laurel , dead to song , And long a stranger to ...
... vain , and idly toil . In vain , forlorn in wilds , the citron blows ; And flowering plants perfume the desert gale . Through the vile thorn the tender myrtle twines : Inglorious droops the laurel , dead to song , And long a stranger to ...
Página 28
... vain show Deluded thousands starve ; all age - begrimed , Torn , robb'd and scatter'd in unnumber'd sacks , And by the tempest of two thousand years Continual shaken , let my ruins vie . These roads that yet the Roman hand assert ...
... vain show Deluded thousands starve ; all age - begrimed , Torn , robb'd and scatter'd in unnumber'd sacks , And by the tempest of two thousand years Continual shaken , let my ruins vie . These roads that yet the Roman hand assert ...
Página 38
... vain abyss Of fabling ages loved to lose their source , And with their river traced it from the skies . While there my laws alone despotic reign'd , And king , as well as people , proud obey'd , I taught them science , virtue , wisdom ...
... vain abyss Of fabling ages loved to lose their source , And with their river traced it from the skies . While there my laws alone despotic reign'd , And king , as well as people , proud obey'd , I taught them science , virtue , wisdom ...
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Términos y frases comunes
Abra Amid ancient ANTISTROPHE arts Athens awful beam behold beneath blaze bless bless'd bliss blood boast breast breathing Britain Britons charms Circassia Corruption dark death deep delight dread dress'd E'en earth ECLOGUE Epaminondas fair fame Fancy Fate fire flame flood fond Freedom Gaul genius glory Goddess grace Greece grove hand happy heart Heaven Hence honour isle Isthmian games Italy join'd kings land Latium Liberty light lubber fiend lyre maid mankind mind mingled mix'd mountains Muse Musidora ne'er nymph o'er pass'd passion peace Persian plain pomp pour'd pride race rage reign rise Roman Rome round ruin sacred scene shade shine shore Silures slaves smile soft song sons soul spirit spread storm strain sunk swain sweet swell'd swelling tear tempest tender thee thine thou toil touch'd trembling truth tyrant vale virtue waste waves whence wild winds youth
Pasajes populares
Página 228 - WHEN Music, heavenly maid, was young, While yet in early Greece she sung, The Passions oft, to hear her shell, Throng'd around her magic cell...
Página 235 - Or midst the chase, on every plain, The tender thought on thee shall dwell : Each lonely scene shall thee restore ; For thee the tear be duly shed ; Beloved, till life can charm no more ; And mourn'd, till Pity's self be dead.
Página 228 - Each (for madness ruled the hour) Would prove his own expressive power, FIRST Fear his hand, its skill to try, Amid the chords bewilder'd laid, And back recoil'd, he knew not why, E'en at the sound himself had made. Next Anger rush'd ; his eyes on fire, In lightnings own'd his secret stings : In one rude clash, he struck the lyre, And swept with hurried hand the strings...
Página 209 - O THOU by Nature taught, To breathe her genuine Thought, In Numbers warmly pure, and sweetly strong: Who first on Mountains wild, In Fancy loveliest Child, Thy Babe, or Pleasure's, nurs'd the Pow'rs of Song! Thou, who with Hermit Heart Disdain'st the Wealth of Art...
Página 223 - Who slept in buds the day, And many a Nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge And sheds the freshening dew, and lovelier still The pensive Pleasures sweet Prepare thy shadowy car.
Página 163 - Behold ! and look away your low despair, — See the light tenants of the barren air ; To them nor stores nor granaries belong, Nought but the woodland, and the pleasing song ; Yet your kind Heavenly Father bends His eye On the least wing that flits along the sky.
Página 223 - Bat, With short shrill Shriek flits by on leathern Wing, Or where the Beetle winds His small but sullen Horn, As oft he rises 'midst the twilight Path, Against the Pilgrim born in heedless Hum: Now teach me, Maid compos'd, To breathe some soften'd Strain, Whose Numbers stealing thro' thy dark'ning Vale, May not unseemly with its Stillness suit, As musing slow, I hail Thy genial lov'd Return!
Página 243 - There must thou wake perforce thy Doric quill, 'Tis Fancy's land to which thou sett'st thy feet ; Where still, 'tis said, the fairy people meet Beneath each birken shade on mead or hill. There each trim lass that skims the milky store To the swart tribes their creamy bowl allots ; By night they sip it round the cottage-door, While airy minstrels warble jocund notes.
Página 179 - The Muses, still with freedom found, Shall to thy happy coast repair: Blest isle! with matchless beauty crowned, And manly hearts to guard the fair. 'Rule, Britannia, rule the waves; Britons never will be slaves.
Página 168 - Tell me, thou soul of her I love, Ah ! tell me, whither art thou fled ; To what delightful world above, Appointed for the happy dead? Or dost thou, free, at pleasure, roam And sometimes share thy lover's woe...