Select Beauties of Ancient English Poetry, 1 tomasJ. Sharpe, 1810 |
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iii psl.
... sweet poesie , Was cropped in my prime , And ripe in worth , though greene in years did dye . DRUMMOND . HENRY HEADLEY was the only son of the Rev. Henry Headley ; Vicar of North Walsham , in the county of Norfolk . He was born at ...
... sweet poesie , Was cropped in my prime , And ripe in worth , though greene in years did dye . DRUMMOND . HENRY HEADLEY was the only son of the Rev. Henry Headley ; Vicar of North Walsham , in the county of Norfolk . He was born at ...
xix psl.
... sweet , that seem'd to smile , Like flowers upon some long - forsaken pile * . Far from the murmuring crowd , unseen , he sought Each charm congenial to his sadden'd thought . When the grey morn illum'd the mountain's side , To hear the ...
... sweet , that seem'd to smile , Like flowers upon some long - forsaken pile * . Far from the murmuring crowd , unseen , he sought Each charm congenial to his sadden'd thought . When the grey morn illum'd the mountain's side , To hear the ...
xx psl.
... SWEET Pensiveness , who once didst love to throw O'er Headley's Muse the fading tints of woe ! How does thy swelling bosom heave with sighs , To see how low thy youthful votary lies ! Cynthia , whose praise adorn'd his tuneful lay , Now ...
... SWEET Pensiveness , who once didst love to throw O'er Headley's Muse the fading tints of woe ! How does thy swelling bosom heave with sighs , To see how low thy youthful votary lies ! Cynthia , whose praise adorn'd his tuneful lay , Now ...
xxi psl.
... sweet mother , before all other , For you I have most dread . and resolution return . She goes on : But now adieu ! I must ensue , Where fortune doth me lead . This is that ardent and artless language of nature that baffles simulation ...
... sweet mother , before all other , For you I have most dread . and resolution return . She goes on : But now adieu ! I must ensue , Where fortune doth me lead . This is that ardent and artless language of nature that baffles simulation ...
xl psl.
... sweet prince , when you shall come to know , That ' tis not in the power of kings to raise A spirit for verse , that is not born thereto , Nor are they born in every prince's days : For late Eliza's reign gave birth to more Than all the ...
... sweet prince , when you shall come to know , That ' tis not in the power of kings to raise A spirit for verse , that is not born thereto , Nor are they born in every prince's days : For late Eliza's reign gave birth to more Than all the ...
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Select Beauties of Ancient English Poetry, Vol. 1 of 2– With Remarks ... Henry Headley Peržiūra negalima - 2017 |
Select Beauties of Ancient English Poetry, Vol. 1 of 2– With Remarks ... Henry Headley Peržiūra negalima - 2018 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Alençon ancient arms beauty Benwell blood born bower breast breath Cant castle cheerful crown Daniel Daphles dark Davenant death delight Doracles dost doth Drayton dreadful Dunmow Earle Earle of March edit Edmund Bolton Edward elegant English eyes fair falling idols fame fate fear Fletcher Francis Quarles genius Giles Fletcher Gondibert grace grief hand hath heart heav'n hell honour Jonson King live look Lord Milton mind Mortimer Muses never night nought Nut-brown Maid o'er Oxford Oxon passage PHINEAS FLETCHER pieces poem poet poetical poetry Poly-Olbion Priam prince Quarles queen reader reign rest Robert Fitz Walter Rosamond SAMUEL DANIEL seem'd seems Shakspeare sighs sight slain Slanes Castle sleep sorrow soul Spenser spirit stood sweet sword taste tears thee thing thou thought tion Trinity College unto verses victory Whilst woeful Wood words wretched writers
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189 psl. - You would have thought the very windows spake, So many greedy looks of young and old Through casements darted their desiring eyes Upon his visage ; and that all the walls With painted imagery had said at once, — " Jesu preserve thee ! welcome, Bolingbroke !" Whilst he, from one side to the other turning, Bare-headed, lower than his proud steed's neck, Bespake them thus, — " I thank you, countrymen :" And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along.
190 psl. - Richard ; no man cried, God save him ; No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home : But dust was thrown upon his sacred head ; Which, with such gentle sorrow he shook off, His face still combating with tears and smiles, The badges of his grief and patience, That had not God, for some strong...
91 psl. - The fleeting course of fast-declining life : There heard we him with broke and hollow plaint Rue with himself his end approaching fast, And all for nought his wretched mind torment With sweet remembrance of his pleasures past. And fresh delights of lusty youth forewaste ; Recounting which, how would he sob and shriek, And to be young again of Jove beseek ! But an...
xxvii psl. - He made an administration so checkered and speckled ; he put together a piece of joinery so. crossly indented and whimsically dove-tailed ; a cabinet so variously inlaid ; such a piece of diversified mosaic, such a tesselated pavement without cement ; here a bit of black stone, and there a bit of white...
xxvii psl. - ... a tesselated pavement without cement ; here a bit of black stone, and there a bit of white ; patriots and courtiers, king's friends and republicans; whigs and tories; treacherous friends and open enemies ; that it was indeed a very curious show ; but utterly unsafe to touch, and unsure to stand on.
80 psl. - To read what manner music that might be: For all that pleasing is to living ear, Was there consorted in one harmony; Birds, voices, instruments, winds, waters, all agree. The joyous birds, shrouded in cheerful shade, Their notes unto the voice attempered sweet; Th' angelical soft trembling voices made To th...
138 psl. - What though the field be lost? All is not lost; the unconquerable will, And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to submit or yield: And what is else not to be overcome?
90 psl. - ... he, whom Fortune frowned on, Or whom she lifted up into the throne Of high renown ; but, as a living death, So, dead alive, of life he drew the breath. The body's rest, the quiet of the heart, The travail's ease, the still night's fear was he, And of our life in earth the better part ; Reaver of sight, and yet in whom we see Things oft that tide, and oft that never be ; Without respect, esteeming equally King Groemi pomp, and Irus
92 psl. - Went on three feet, and sometimes crept on four, With old lame bones that rattled by his side, His scalp all pilled, and he with eld forlore; His withered fist still knocking at Death's door, Fumbling and driveling, as he draws his breath; For brief, the shape and messenger of Death.
114 psl. - Seiian worms he knows, that with their thread Draw out their silken lives ; nor silken pride : His lambs...