Sabrinae Corolla in Hortulis Regiae Scholae Salopiensis contexuerunt tres viri [B. H. Kennedy, J. Riddell, and another], floribus legendisimpensis Georgii Bell in vico dicto Fleet Street, 1850 - 328 páginas |
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... dear honour's sake , Goddess of the silver lake , Listen , and save ! MILTON . Δῖα Σαβρίνη , σέβας ὡραῖον , κλύθ ̓ ἵνα θακεῖς ὑπ ' ἀθερμάντου ρεύματος αὐταῖς θρόνον ἠλίβατον , λείρι ̓ ὑφαίνουσ ' ηλεκτροχόων χλιδαναῖσι κομῶν ἀγλαίαισιν ...
... dear honour's sake , Goddess of the silver lake , Listen , and save ! MILTON . Δῖα Σαβρίνη , σέβας ὡραῖον , κλύθ ̓ ἵνα θακεῖς ὑπ ' ἀθερμάντου ρεύματος αὐταῖς θρόνον ἠλίβατον , λείρι ̓ ὑφαίνουσ ' ηλεκτροχόων χλιδαναῖσι κομῶν ἀγλαίαισιν ...
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... dear to me the hour when daylight dies , And sunbeams melt along the silent sea ! For then sweet dreams of other days arise , And memory breathes her vesper sigh to thee . And as I watch the line of light that plays Along the smooth ...
... dear to me the hour when daylight dies , And sunbeams melt along the silent sea ! For then sweet dreams of other days arise , And memory breathes her vesper sigh to thee . And as I watch the line of light that plays Along the smooth ...
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... dear God who loveth us , He made and loveth all . COLERIDGE . Zeus zu Herkules . Nicht aus meinem Nektar hast du die Gottheit getrunken ; Deine Götterkraft war's , die dir den Nektar errang . SCHILLER . Amemus . Mira loqvor , conviva ...
... dear God who loveth us , He made and loveth all . COLERIDGE . Zeus zu Herkules . Nicht aus meinem Nektar hast du die Gottheit getrunken ; Deine Götterkraft war's , die dir den Nektar errang . SCHILLER . Amemus . Mira loqvor , conviva ...
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... dear , Nancy , Nancy ; Then all hell will fly for fear , My spouse Nancy . To Phyllis . Phyllis , why should we delay Pleasures shorter than the day ? Could we ( which we never can ) Stretch our lives beyond their span , Beauty like a ...
... dear , Nancy , Nancy ; Then all hell will fly for fear , My spouse Nancy . To Phyllis . Phyllis , why should we delay Pleasures shorter than the day ? Could we ( which we never can ) Stretch our lives beyond their span , Beauty like a ...
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... dear ! Thy mantle good , What , stained with blood ? Approach , ye furies fell ! O fates , come , come ! Cut thread , and thrum ! Quail , crush , conclude , and quell ! O breathe not his Name . O breathe not his name , let it sleep in ...
... dear ! Thy mantle good , What , stained with blood ? Approach , ye furies fell ! O fates , come , come ! Cut thread , and thrum ! Quail , crush , conclude , and quell ! O breathe not his Name . O breathe not his name , let it sleep in ...
Outras edições - Ver tudo
Sabrinae Corolla in Hortulis Regiae Scholae Salopiensis contexuerunt tres ... Benjamin Hall Kennedy Visualização integral - 1850 |
Sabrinae Corolla in Hortulis Regiae Scholae Salopiensis contexuerunt tres ... Benjamin Hall Kennedy Visualização integral - 1850 |
Sabrinae Corolla in Hortulis Regiae Scholae Salopiensis contexuerunt tres ... Benjamin Hall Kennedy Visualização integral - 1850 |
Passagens conhecidas
Página 196 - Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds ; pleasant the sun When first on this delightful land he spreads His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, Glist'ring with dew; fragrant the fertile earth After soft showers ; and sweet the coming on Of grateful evening mild ; then silent night With this her solemn bird and this fair moon, And these the gems of heaven, her starry train...
Página 130 - twas time to counterfeit, or that hot termagant Scot had paid me scot and lot too. Counterfeit ? I lie, I am no counterfeit : to die, is to be a counterfeit ; for he is but the counterfeit of a man who hath not the life of a man : but to counterfeit dying, when a man thereby liveth, is to be no counterfeit, but the true and perfect image of life indeed.
Página 78 - 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.
Página 156 - Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulphurous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave ! Wave, Munich ! all thy banners wave, And charge with all thy chivalry. Few, few shall part where many meet ! The snow shall be their winding-sheet ; And every turf beneath their feet Shall be a soldier's sepulchre.
Página 154 - Far flashed the red artillery. But redder yet that light shall glow On Linden's hills of stained snow, And bloodier yet the torrent flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. Tis morn ; but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulphurous canopy.
Página 248 - They mount up to the heaven, they go down again to the depths : their soul is melted because of trouble. They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are at their wit's end.
Página 114 - Therefore doth heaven divide The state of man in divers functions, Setting endeavour in continual motion ; To which is fixed, as an aim or butt, Obedience : for so work the honey-bees, Creatures that by a rule in nature teach The act of order to a peopled kingdom.
Página 266 - Of nature's womb, that in quaternion run Perpetual circle, multiform; and mix And nourish all things ; let your ceaseless change Vary to our great Maker still new praise. Ye Mists and Exhalations that now rise From hill or steaming lake, dusky or grey, Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold, In honour to the world's great Author rise...
Página 152 - Sweet echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen Within thy airy shell By slow Meander's margent green, And in the violet-embroidered vale Where the love-lorn nightingale Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well: Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair That likest thy Narcissus are? O, if thou have Hid them in some flowery cave, Tell me but where, Sweet Queen of Parley, Daughter of the Sphere! So may'st thou be translated to the skies, And give resounding grace to all Heaven's harmonies!
Página 258 - For there is not a word in my tongue, but, lo, O Lord, thou knowest it altogether. Thou hast beset me behind and before, and laid thine hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me ; it is high, I cannot attain unto it.