Arundines Cami; sive, Musarum Cantabrigiensium lusus canori, collegit atque ed. H. Drury |
Dentro del libro
Resultados 6-10 de 12
Página 140
Sweepings from butchers ' stalls , dung , guts , and blood , Drowned puppies ,
stinking sprats , all drenched in mud , Dead cats and turnip - tops come tumbling
down the flood . Swift . To a Lady . Too late I stayed , forgive the crime ;
Unheeded ...
Sweepings from butchers ' stalls , dung , guts , and blood , Drowned puppies ,
stinking sprats , all drenched in mud , Dead cats and turnip - tops come tumbling
down the flood . Swift . To a Lady . Too late I stayed , forgive the crime ;
Unheeded ...
Página 150
WHEN Bibo thought fit from this world to retreat , As full of champagne as an egg '
s full of meat , He turned in the boat and to Charon he said ; “ I will be rowed back
, for I am not yet dead . ' • Trim the boat and sit quiet , ' stern Charon replied ...
WHEN Bibo thought fit from this world to retreat , As full of champagne as an egg '
s full of meat , He turned in the boat and to Charon he said ; “ I will be rowed back
, for I am not yet dead . ' • Trim the boat and sit quiet , ' stern Charon replied ...
Página 218
On some fond breast the parting soul relies , Some pious drops the closing eye
requires ; E ' en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries , E ' en in our ashes live
their wonted fires . For thee , who , mindful of th ' unhonoured dead , Dost in these
...
On some fond breast the parting soul relies , Some pious drops the closing eye
requires ; E ' en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries , E ' en in our ashes live
their wonted fires . For thee , who , mindful of th ' unhonoured dead , Dost in these
...
Página 272
We buried him darkly at dead of night , The sod with our bayonets turning , By the
struggling moonbeam ' s misty light , And the lanthorn dimly burning . No useless
coffin enclosed his breast , Nor in sheet nor in shroud we wound him , But he ...
We buried him darkly at dead of night , The sod with our bayonets turning , By the
struggling moonbeam ' s misty light , And the lanthorn dimly burning . No useless
coffin enclosed his breast , Nor in sheet nor in shroud we wound him , But he ...
Página 328
By the last and bitter cry , The ghost given up in agony ; By the lifeless body laid
In the chamber of the dead ; By the mourners come to weep , Where the bones of
Jesus sleep ; Crucified ! we know Thee now ; Son of Man ! ' tis Thou ! ' tis Thou !
By the last and bitter cry , The ghost given up in agony ; By the lifeless body laid
In the chamber of the dead ; By the mourners come to weep , Where the bones of
Jesus sleep ; Crucified ! we know Thee now ; Son of Man ! ' tis Thou ! ' tis Thou !
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Términos y frases comunes
Amor atque beneath Bermuda bright Colton comes cura dead Death Deus dream earth erat eyes face fair fear fire flowers friends Gammer Gurton give gone grave green grow Hæc hand head hear heart heaven hill hora hour illa inter Ipsa ipse Lady land lass light live look Mary mihi Milton modo mother neque never night o'er oculis omne omnia pass pede puer quæ quam Queen quid Quin quis quod rest round sæpe shade sigh sine sing smile soul sound Spirit sunt super sweet Tennyson Terra thee thine thou thought tibi tree turn umbra vale voice winds δε εν ου τε
Pasajes populares
Página 114 - Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt, Dispraise, or blame, nothing but well and fair, And what may quiet us in a death so noble.
Página 72 - Oft, in the stilly night, Ere Slumber's chain has bound me, Fond Memory brings the light Of other days around me : The smiles, the tears, Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken ; The eyes that shone, Now dimmed and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken ! Thus, in the stilly night, Ere Slumber's chain has bound me. Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me.
Página 62 - 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 52 - He makes the figs our mouths to meet And throws the melons at our feet; But apples, plants of such a price, No tree could ever bear them twice. With cedars chosen by His hand From Lebanon He stores the land; And makes the hollow seas that roar Proclaim the ambergris on shore.
Página 312 - From Greenland's icy mountains, From India's coral strand ; Where Afric's sunny fountains .Roll down their golden sand ; From many an ancient river, From many a palmy plain, They call us to deliver Their land from error's chain.
Página 270 - We thought as we hollowed his narrow bed And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow. Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him, — But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him.
Página 142 - The oracles are dumb, No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving No nightly trance, or breathed spell, Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell...
Página 270 - Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him — But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him. But half of our heavy task was done When the clock struck the hour for retiring ; And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing.
Página 280 - The star that bids the shepherd fold, Now the top of heaven doth hold ; And the gilded car of day His glowing axle doth allay In the steep Atlantic stream, And the slope sun his upward beam Shoots against the dusky pole, Pacing toward the other goal Of his chamber in the east. Meanwhile, welcome joy and feast, Midnight shout and revelry, Tipsy dance and jollity.
Página 18 - DAUGHTER of Jove, relentless power, Thou tamer of the human breast, Whose iron scourge and torturing hour The bad affright, afflict the best ! Bound in thy adamantine chain The proud are taught to taste of pain, And purple tyrants vainly groan With pangs unfelt before, unpitiet} and alone.