Anthologia oxoniensisWilliam Linwood impensis Longman, Brown, Green, et Longman, 1846 - 306 páginas |
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Página 2
... Thy song could make my soul forget Nay , nay , in pity dry that tear , All may be well , be happy yet . Let me but see that snowy arm Once more upon the dear harp lie ; And I will cease to dream of harm , Will smile at fate , while thou art ...
... Thy song could make my soul forget Nay , nay , in pity dry that tear , All may be well , be happy yet . Let me but see that snowy arm Once more upon the dear harp lie ; And I will cease to dream of harm , Will smile at fate , while thou art ...
Página 16
... thou dost not say , What thou ne'er left'st unsaid ; And now I feel , as well I may , Sweet Mary ! thou art dead ! If thou wouldst stay , e'en as thou art , All cold and all serene , I still might press thy silent heart , And where thy ...
... thou dost not say , What thou ne'er left'st unsaid ; And now I feel , as well I may , Sweet Mary ! thou art dead ! If thou wouldst stay , e'en as thou art , All cold and all serene , I still might press thy silent heart , And where thy ...
Página 18
William Linwood. While e'en thy chill , bleak corse I have , Thou seemest still mine own ; But there I lay thee in thy grave , — And I am now alone ! I do not think , where'er thou art , Thou hast forgotten me ; And I , perhaps , may ...
William Linwood. While e'en thy chill , bleak corse I have , Thou seemest still mine own ; But there I lay thee in thy grave , — And I am now alone ! I do not think , where'er thou art , Thou hast forgotten me ; And I , perhaps , may ...
Página 34
... art thou red in thine apparel , and thy garments like him that treadeth in the winefat ? I have trodden the wine - press alone ; and of the people there was none with me : for I will tread them in mine anger , and trample them in my ...
... art thou red in thine apparel , and thy garments like him that treadeth in the winefat ? I have trodden the wine - press alone ; and of the people there was none with me : for I will tread them in mine anger , and trample them in my ...
Página 50
... thou art , Let thy loveliness fade as it will ; And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart Would entwine itself verdantly still . It is not while beauty and youth are thine own , And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear , That the ...
... thou art , Let thy loveliness fade as it will ; And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart Would entwine itself verdantly still . It is not while beauty and youth are thine own , And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear , That the ...
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ægra AFFR Alonzo amor Anacreon Andromache Anthologia aquas aura Britannis conscia corda Death decus detur Sympathia Deus doth earth Epigramma eyes face fair flower formæ gaudia grave ground hæc haud heart Hei mihi illa ille imago Imogine ipsa Jamque Jean lacrymis læta leaves life Lines live love Marathon meæ Milton Moore Mors Neptunus never night nostræ nunc o'er olim Paradise Lost patriæ pectore Phoebus præmia præsens pulcra quæ quæque quies rite Roma rosa Rose roses Sæpe salix Shakspeare sine Song sweet tamen tellus terræ thee thine thirty-five thou art tibi toro tuæ Tunc umbra unda vitæ world ἀλλ ἀλλὰ ἂν αὖ αὖθις γὰρ δὲ δὴ εἰς ἐκ ἐν ἐπὶ ἐς ἦν καὶ μὲν μοι νῦν ὅπως ὃς οὐ οὐκ πρὸς σὺ τὰ τε τῆς τί τὸ τὸν τῶν φίλον ὡς
Pasajes populares
Página 42 - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it ! My part of death, no one so true Did share it.
Página 94 - O, then, I see, Queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife; and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the forefinger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomies Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep : Her wagon-spokes made of long spinners...
Página 148 - EPITAPH. ON THE COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE. UNDERNEATH this sable hearse Lies the subject of all verse, Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother : Death, ere thou hast slain another, Fair, and learned, and good as she, Time shall throw a dart at thee.
Página 102 - IF thou would'st view fair Melrose aright, Go visit it by the pale moon-light ; For the gay beams of lightsome day Gild, but to flout, the ruins gray.
Página 44 - Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Página 160 - To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue— A curse shall light upon the limbs of men; Domestic fury and fierce civil strife Shall cumber all the parts of Italy; Blood and destruction shall be so in use, And dreadful objects so familiar, That mothers shall but smile when they behold Their infants quartered with the hands of war, All pity chok'd with custom of fell deeds; And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge, With Ate by his side come hot from hell, Shall in these confines with a monarch's...
Página 156 - Fear no more the heat o' the sun Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages; Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o...
Página 46 - As bees In spring-time, when the Sun with Taurus rides, Pour forth their populous youth about the hive In clusters; they among fresh dews and flowers Fly to and fro, or on the smoothed plank, The suburb of their straw-built citadel, New rubbed with balm, expatiate, and confer Their state affairs: so thick the aery crowd Swarmed and were straitened; till, the signal given, Behold a wonder!
Página 100 - The isles of Greece ! the isles of Greece ! "Where burning Sappho loved and sung, — Where grew the arts of war and peace, Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung ! Eternal summer gilds them yet, But all, except their sun, is set.
Página 162 - Like to the falling of a star; Or as the flights of eagles are; Or like the fresh spring's gaudy hue; Or silver drops of morning dew; Or like a wind that chafes the flood; Or bubbles which on water stood; Even such is man, whose borrowed light Is straight called in, and paid to night. The wind blows out; the bubble dies; The spring entombed in autumn lies; The dew dries up; the star is shot; The flight is past; and man forgot.