Foliorum silvula, selections for translation into Latin and Greek verse, by H.A. HoldenHubert Ashton Holden 1866 |
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Página 6
... grace with tender beam the rising morn ; but soon the sun permits a fiercer ray , and the fair fabric rushes to decay : lo , in the dust the beauteous ruin lies ; and the pure vapour seeks its native skies . a fate like this to thee ...
... grace with tender beam the rising morn ; but soon the sun permits a fiercer ray , and the fair fabric rushes to decay : lo , in the dust the beauteous ruin lies ; and the pure vapour seeks its native skies . a fate like this to thee ...
Página 13
... GRACE OF GOD O. GOLDSMITH HE mistie clouds that fall somtime THE and ouercast the skyes are like to troubles of our time which do but dymme our eyes . But as suche dewes are dryed vp quite when Phoebus shewes his face , so are sad ...
... GRACE OF GOD O. GOLDSMITH HE mistie clouds that fall somtime THE and ouercast the skyes are like to troubles of our time which do but dymme our eyes . But as suche dewes are dryed vp quite when Phoebus shewes his face , so are sad ...
Página 26
... grace , nor polished marble emulate thy face , what though no sacred earth allow thee room , nor hallowed dirge be muttered o'er thy tomb ? yet shall thy grave with rising flowers be drest , and the green turf lie lightly on thy breast ...
... grace , nor polished marble emulate thy face , what though no sacred earth allow thee room , nor hallowed dirge be muttered o'er thy tomb ? yet shall thy grave with rising flowers be drest , and the green turf lie lightly on thy breast ...
Página 37
... grace ; robes loosely flowing , hayre as free : such sweet neglect more taketh me , than all th ' adulteries of Art ; they strike mine eyes , but not my heart . BEN JONSON 121 THE SPIRIT IN ' PROMETHEUS UNBOUND ' Y coursers are fed with ...
... grace ; robes loosely flowing , hayre as free : such sweet neglect more taketh me , than all th ' adulteries of Art ; they strike mine eyes , but not my heart . BEN JONSON 121 THE SPIRIT IN ' PROMETHEUS UNBOUND ' Y coursers are fed with ...
Página 40
... grace undying , which in thee survives them all . Not for charms the newest , brightest , that on other cheeks may shine , would I change the least , the slightest , that is lingering now on thine . C. NORTON T. MOORE 132 VISIONS OF ...
... grace undying , which in thee survives them all . Not for charms the newest , brightest , that on other cheeks may shine , would I change the least , the slightest , that is lingering now on thine . C. NORTON T. MOORE 132 VISIONS OF ...
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Foliorum Silvula, Selections for Translation Into Latin and Greek Verse, by ... Hubert Ashton Holden Sin vista previa disponible - 2016 |
Foliorum Silvula, Selections for Translation Into Latin and Greek Verse, by ... Hubert Ashton Holden Sin vista previa disponible - 2015 |
Foliorum Silvula, Selections for Translation Into Latin and Greek Verse, by ... Hubert Ashton Holden Sin vista previa disponible - 2015 |
Términos y frases comunes
arms beauty beneath birds breast breath bright charms clouds cold dark dead death deep delight doth dream earth Edition eyes face fair fall fear feel fields fire flowers gentle give grace grave green grove hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hills hope hour land leaves light live look LORD mind morn mountain nature never night notes o'er once pain pass past peace plain pleasure rest rise rocks rose round seemed shade shine sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song soon sorrow soul sound spirit spread spring stars stood storm stream sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought trees turn voice wandering waters waves weep wild winds wings woods youth καὶ
Pasajes populares
Página 36 - SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love. A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye ! — Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me...
Página 84 - gainst his glory fight, And Time that gave doth now his gift confound. Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth, And delves the parallels in beauty's brow, Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth, And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow : And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand, Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.
Página 351 - 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. The...
Página 362 - Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning.
Página 87 - Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee...
Página 54 - How sleep the brave who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed 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 gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; And freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there ! ODE TO MERCY.
Página 189 - Who is Silvia ? what is she, That all our swains commend her ? Holy, fair and wise is she ; The heaven such grace did lend her That she might admired be. Is she kind as she is fair ? for beauty lives with kindness : Love doth to her eyes repair, To help him of his blindness ; And, being help'd, inhabits there. Then to Silvia let us sing, That Silvia is excelling ; She excels each mortal thing Upon the dull earth dwelling ; To her let us garlands bring.
Página 70 - What objects are the fountains of thy happy strain? What fields, or waves, or mountains? what shapes of sky or plain? What love of thine own kind? what ignorance...
Página 402 - Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood In brighter light, and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood? Alas! they all are in their graves, the gentle race of flowers Are lying in their lowly beds, with the fair and good of ours. The rain is falling where they lie, but the cold November rain Calls not from out the gloomy earth the lovely ones again.
Página 34 - The Epitaph Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth A Youth, to Fortune and to Fame unknown; Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth, And Melancholy mark'd him for her own. Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere...