Poetry and Poets: A Collection of the Choicest Anecdotes Relative to the Poets of Every Age and Nation. With Specimens of Their Works and Sketches of Their Biography, 第 2 巻Sherwood, Gilbert, & Piper, 1826 - 292 ページ |
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... thou number , Ere he faded before thee , -the friend of thy heart ? And , oh ! was it meet that no requiem read o'er him , No mother to weep , and no friend to deplore him , And thou , little guardian , alone stretch'd before him POETRY AND ...
... thou number , Ere he faded before thee , -the friend of thy heart ? And , oh ! was it meet that no requiem read o'er him , No mother to weep , and no friend to deplore him , And thou , little guardian , alone stretch'd before him POETRY AND ...
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ACROSTICS admiration anagram Avery ballad bard beautiful called celebrated character charm College composition Cork Court of Love death dedication delight divine Doctor doth Dryden Earl English epigram epitaph eyes fame fancy Garrick genius gentleman George give Goldsmith GORBODUC hand hath heart Herrick honour Irish Jenyns John Dryden JOHN JEGON John Milton King lady language Leyden live Lord lover Majesty Mary Ambree morning Muse native never night o'er Palindrome Parini person piece Pindar play poem poet poetical poetry Pope praise published Queen racter recited rhyme ROBERT HERRICK Saint Santieul satire says sent sing SIR JOHN SIR JOHN DAVIES Soame Jenyns songs soon soul specimen spirit sublime sweet Swift talents thee thing Thomas Thomas the Rhymer thou thought tion took Tragedy translation verses Voltaire Waller Whiskey write written wrote yon burn side
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247 ページ - He bowed the heavens also and came down: and darkness was under his feet. And he rode upon a cherub and did fly: yea, he did fly upon the wings of the wind. He made darkness his secret place : his pavilions round about him were dark waters, and thick clouds of the skies
141 ページ - he's to setting. . That age is best which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse, and worst Times still succeed the former. Then be not coy, but use your time, And, while ye may, go marry; For, having lost but once your prime, You may for ever tarry.
184 ページ - prison make, Nor iron bars a cage ; Minds, innocent and quiet, take That for an hermitage. If I have freedom in my love, And in my soul am free, Angels alone that soar above Enjoy such liberty.
231 ページ - friend of thy heart? And, oh ! was it meet that no requiem read o'er him, No mother to weep, and no friend to deplore him, And thou, little guardian, alone stretch'd before him, Unhonour'd the pilgrim from life should depart? When a prince to the fate of a peasant has yielded, The tap'stry waves dark
245 ページ - Hospes, comesque corporis, Quae nunc abibis in loca ? Pallidula, rigida, nudula, Nee, ut soles, dabis joca ?" The diminutives and titles of endearment which the dying Emperor applies to his soul, give these verses a prettiness, yet of a melancholy sort, which no translation into English can attain. It is worth while remarking, that the
231 ページ - fox and the raven away. How long didst thou think that his silence was slumber ? When the wind wav'd his garments, how oft didst thou start? How many long days and long nights didst thou number, Ere he faded before thee,—the friend of thy heart? And,
123 ページ - through time's all-devastating flight ; Thou only God ! there is no God beside ! Being above all beings ! Mighty One ! Whom none can comprehend, and none explore ! Who fill'st existence, with Thyself alone ; Embracing all, — supporting, — ruling o'er, — Being whom we
247 ページ - round about him were dark waters, and thick clouds of the skies The Lord also thundered in the heavens: and the Highest gave his voice, hailstones and coals of fire.
259 ページ - Before my face the picture hangs, That daily should put me in mind, Of these cold names and bitter pangs That shortly I am like to find ; But yet, alas! full little I Do think hereon, that I must die. I often look upon a face Most ugly, grisly, bare, and thin
66 ページ - now so late to mock A wanderer's banish'd heart forlorn, Now that his frame the lightning shock Of sun-rays tipt with death has borne ? From love, from friendship, country, torn, To memory's fond regrets the prey, Vile slave, thy yellow dross I scorn!— Go mix thee with thy kindred clay!