New elegant extracts; a selection from the most eminent British poets and poetical translators, by R.A. Davenport, Band 4 |
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Seite 2
... cheek , now pale from early riot , With passion's hectic ne'er had flush'd , But bloom'd in calm domestic quiet . Yes , once the rural scene was sweet , For Nature seem'd to smile before thee ; And once my breast abhorr'd deceit , For ...
... cheek , now pale from early riot , With passion's hectic ne'er had flush'd , But bloom'd in calm domestic quiet . Yes , once the rural scene was sweet , For Nature seem'd to smile before thee ; And once my breast abhorr'd deceit , For ...
Seite 14
... cheek its lustre throwing , Bid sensual fools that cheek adore , And talk of passion ever glowing ; Still to thy mind should time impart A charm to bid it feel sincerely , Nor idly wound a breaking heart That's loved thee long and loved ...
... cheek its lustre throwing , Bid sensual fools that cheek adore , And talk of passion ever glowing ; Still to thy mind should time impart A charm to bid it feel sincerely , Nor idly wound a breaking heart That's loved thee long and loved ...
Seite 21
... cheeks , soft blushing , speak a warmth divine ; Graceful no more amid the festive dance My steps with easy dignity advance , And all the glossy locks , whose ringlets spread O'er my fair neck , the honours of my head , Cease the neat ...
... cheeks , soft blushing , speak a warmth divine ; Graceful no more amid the festive dance My steps with easy dignity advance , And all the glossy locks , whose ringlets spread O'er my fair neck , the honours of my head , Cease the neat ...
Seite 27
... cheek the colour dies , And every grace neglected flies ; My languid eyes no longer glow , Their sparkling lustre dimm'd with woe Slow lingering thus , I sink into the tomb , Nor would I breathe a wish to ' avert the ' un- timely doom ...
... cheek the colour dies , And every grace neglected flies ; My languid eyes no longer glow , Their sparkling lustre dimm'd with woe Slow lingering thus , I sink into the tomb , Nor would I breathe a wish to ' avert the ' un- timely doom ...
Seite 34
... cheek the ' unbidden tear , And think , ah ! why should I be told That I'm the Maid with bosom cold ? The flower may wave its foliage gay , And flaunt it to the garish day , Unseen the while a canker's power May haste its honours to ...
... cheek the ' unbidden tear , And think , ah ! why should I be told That I'm the Maid with bosom cold ? The flower may wave its foliage gay , And flaunt it to the garish day , Unseen the while a canker's power May haste its honours to ...
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
adieu beams beauty beguile beneath bless bless'd bliss bloom bosom cold bower breast breath bright CHARLOTTE SMITH charm cheek cheer dark dear death despair dream e'er ELEGY eyes fade fair Fair city Fancy farewell fate feel flame flowers fond gale gay nature gentle gloom glow grace grave grief grove hast hear heart Heaven honours hope HOTWELLS hour hour of victory life's lips lonely LORD BYRON love restore love's Lover Lycidas lyre Maid with bosom mind Monody morn mourn Muse Naiad ne'er night nymph o'er pain pale pangs pass'd peace pity pride rapture rill rise round scenes scorn shade shine shore sigh silent skies sleep smile soft song soothe sorrows soul spring strain stream sweet tear tempest tender thee thine thou thought tomb Twas vale virtue voice wake wandering wave weep wild winds youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 170 - Would'st softly speak, and stroke my head, and smile) Could those few pleasant days again appear, Might one wish bring them, would I wish them here ? I would not trust my heart ; — the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might.
Seite 193 - Ay me, I fondly dream, Had ye been there! — for what could that have done? What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore, The Muse herself, for her enchanting son Whom universal nature did lament, When by the rout that made the hideous roar His gory visage down the stream was sent, Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore?
Seite 172 - Thy indistinct expressions seem Like language utter'd in a dream ; Yet me they charm, whate'er the theme, My Mary! Thy silver locks, once auburn bright, Are still more lovely in my sight Than golden beams of orient light, My Mary ! For, could I view nor them nor thee, What sight worth seeing could I see ? The sun would rise in vain for me, My Mary ! Partakers of thy sad decline, Thy hands their little force resign ; Yet gently prest, press gently mine, My Mary!
Seite 195 - Enow of such, as for their bellies' sake Creep and intrude and climb into the fold! Of other care they little reckoning make Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast, And shove away the worthy bidden guest; Blind mouths!
Seite 198 - Henceforth thou art the genius of the shore In thy large recompense, and shalt be good To all that wander in that perilous flood.
Seite 197 - Where the great vision of the guarded mount Looks toward Namancos and Bayona's hold ; Look homeward, angel, now, and melt with ruth : And, O ye dolphins, waft the hapless youth.
Seite 197 - Through the dear might of Him that walked the waves, Where, other groves and other streams along, With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, And hears the unexpressive nuptial song, In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love. There entertain him all the Saints above, In solemn troops, and sweet societies, That sing, and singing in their glory move, 180 And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
Seite 193 - O the heavy change, now thou art gone, Now thou art gone and never must return! Thee, Shepherd, thee the Woods, and desert Caves, With wild Thyme and the gadding Vine o'ergrown, And all their echoes, mourn. The Willows, and the Hazel Copses green, Shall now no more be seen, Fanning their joyous Leaves to thy soft lays.
Seite 170 - Shoots into port at some well-havened isle, Where spices breathe and brighter seasons smile, There sits quiescent on the floods, that show Her beauteous form reflected clear below, While airs impregnated with incense play Around her, fanning light her streamers gay, So thou, with sails how swift, hast reached the shore 'Where tempests never beat nor billows roar,' And thy loved consort on the dangerous tide Of life long since has anchored by thy side.
Seite 126 - Sighs must fan it, tears must water, Sweat of ours must dress the soil. Think, ye masters iron-hearted, Lolling at your jovial boards ; Think how many backs have smarted For the sweets your cane affords.