A new Latin verse book, containing exercises, with notes and intr. remarks by P. Frost. [With] KeyPercival Frost 1867 |
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ablative absolute adesse æquor æther Amor beauty beneath birds boughs breast breeze bright cæsura clause clouds County Guy couplet dactyl dark dative deûm diphthong earth Epist erat erit EXERCISE eyes Fasti fear flowers followed Georg give glide green grief ground grove habet hæc harp heart Heroid hexameter hills ignes illa instar ipse Latin learner light lime blossoms live Lucret Metam mihi modo moon mountain murmur night numbers nunc o'er Ovid Palæstra pentameter phrase quâ quæ quam Quid quod quoque rose sæpe seek shade shine sigh sine sings sleep smiles soft song sorrow sound spondee stars streams summer sweet syllable tears tenebræ thee thine thou tibi Transpose these lines tree Trist Turn by let verba verse Virg voice vowel wandering waters wave weary weep whilst wild winds wings wood words
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142 ページ - A wet sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast, And fills the white and rustling sail, And bends the gallant mast; And bends the gallant mast, my boys, While, like the eagle free, Away the good ship flies, and leaves Old England on the lee. O for a soft and gentle wind!
203 ページ - Yet not the more Cease I to wander where the Muses haunt Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill...
199 ページ - The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary, But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory. The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest, But our flower was in flushing, When blighting was nearest.
156 ページ - THERE is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign ; Infinite day excludes the night, And pleasures banish pain. 2 There everlasting spring abides, And never-withering flowers ; Death, like a narrow sea, divides This heavenly land from ours.
136 ページ - A weary lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine ! To pull the thorn thy brow to braid, And press the rue for wine ! A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien, A feather of the blue, A doublet of the Lincoln green, — No more of me you knew, My love ! No more of me you knew. " This morn is merry June, I trow, The rose is budding fain ;* But she shall bloom in winter snow, Ere we two meet again.
110 ページ - Fear no more the frown o' the great: Thou art past the tyrant's stroke. Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak: The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust.
180 ページ - Let us alone. Time driveth onward fast, And in a little while our lips are dumb. Let us alone. What is it that will last ? All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful Past.
146 ページ - Wax faint o'er the gardens of gul in her bloom, Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit, And the voice of the nightingale never is mute , Where the tints of the earth , and the hues of the sky , In colour though varied, in beauty may vie...
147 ページ - There's a bower of roses by Bendemeer's stream. And the nightingale sings round it all the day long; In the time of my childhood 'twas like a sweet dream To sit in the roses and hear the bird's song.
132 ページ - 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.