Foliorum silvula, selections for translation into Latin and Greek verse, by H.A. Holden, Volume 1Hubert Ashton Holden 1864 |
No interior do livro
Resultados 1-5 de 38
Página 4
... water at those springs on chaliced flowers that lies ; and winking Mary - buds begin to ope their golden eyes ; with everything that pretty bin : my lady sweet , arise ; arise , arise . W. SHAKESPEARE 15 TO A LADY , WITH FLOWERS FROM A ...
... water at those springs on chaliced flowers that lies ; and winking Mary - buds begin to ope their golden eyes ; with everything that pretty bin : my lady sweet , arise ; arise , arise . W. SHAKESPEARE 15 TO A LADY , WITH FLOWERS FROM A ...
Página 5
... WORDSWORTH ' TIS sweet to hear at midnight on the blue and moonlit deep the song and oar of Adria's gondolier , by distance mellowed , o'er the waters sweep ; ' tis sweet to see the evening star appear ; into Latin Lyric Verse 5.
... WORDSWORTH ' TIS sweet to hear at midnight on the blue and moonlit deep the song and oar of Adria's gondolier , by distance mellowed , o'er the waters sweep ; ' tis sweet to see the evening star appear ; into Latin Lyric Verse 5.
Página 29
... waters , England ! trust not still . Dread thine own power ! since haughty Babel's prime high towers have been man's crime : since her hoar age , when the huge moat lay bare , strongholds have been man's snare . Thy nest is in the crags ...
... waters , England ! trust not still . Dread thine own power ! since haughty Babel's prime high towers have been man's crime : since her hoar age , when the huge moat lay bare , strongholds have been man's snare . Thy nest is in the crags ...
Página 45
... waters of the crisped spring ? Oh , sweet content ! swimm'st thou in wealth , yet sink'st in thine own tears ? Oh , punishment ! then he , that patiently want's burden bears , no burden bears , but is a king , a king ! Oh , sweet ...
... waters of the crisped spring ? Oh , sweet content ! swimm'st thou in wealth , yet sink'st in thine own tears ? Oh , punishment ! then he , that patiently want's burden bears , no burden bears , but is a king , a king ! Oh , sweet ...
Página 46
... waters : altar , sword , and pen , fireside , the heroic wealth of hall and bower , have forfeited their ancient English dower of inward happiness . We are selfish men : O ! raise us up , return to us again ; and give us manners ...
... waters : altar , sword , and pen , fireside , the heroic wealth of hall and bower , have forfeited their ancient English dower of inward happiness . We are selfish men : O ! raise us up , return to us again ; and give us manners ...
Palavras e frases frequentes
beauty beneath birds blest bloom breast breath bright brow calm clouds College COMEDY OF ERRORS Conic Sections crown dead death deep delight didst dost doth dream earth eyes fair fate fear flowers gentle glory golden grove happy hast hath hear heart heaven honour hour J. R. SEELEY J. W. DONALDSON life's light live Lord LORD BYRON lyre mourn ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er P. B. SHELLEY peace Pembroke College pleasure roses round shade shine shore sigh sing skies sleep smile soft song SOPHOCLES sorrow soul sound spirit spring St John's College stars storm stream summer sweet tears thee thine Third Edition thou art Trinity College unto vale voice waves weep whilst wild winds wings WORDSWORTH youth γὰρ δὲ ἐν ἐπὶ ἐς καὶ μὲν οὐ τὰ τε τὸ τὸν
Passagens conhecidas
Página 172 - The oracles are dumb; No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving: Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving: No nightly trance or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
Página 248 - Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is : What if my leaves are falling like its own ! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, spirit fierce, My spirit ! Be thou me, impetuous one ! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth...
Página 248 - WILD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou, Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill (Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air) With...
Página 216 - Now strike the golden lyre again : A louder yet, and yet a louder strain ! Break his bands of sleep asunder And rouse him like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark, hark ! the horrid sound Has raised up his head : As awaked from the dead And amazed he stares around. Revenge, revenge...
Página 9 - It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make Man better be ; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere : A lily of a day Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night — It was the plant and flower of Light. In small proportions we just beauties see ; And in short measures life may perfect be.
Página 171 - No war, or battle's sound, Was heard the world around : The idle spear and shield were high up hung ; The hooked chariot stood Unstained with hostile blood ; The trumpet spake not to the armed throng ; And kings sat still with awful eye, As if they surely knew their sovereign Lord was by.
Página 267 - He who hath bent him o'er the dead Ere the first day of death is fled, The first dark day of nothingness, The last of danger and distress...
Página 145 - I'll never love thee more. As Alexander I will reign, And I will reign alone ; My thoughts did evermore disdain A rival on my throne. He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who dares not put it to the touch To gain or lose it all.
Página 46 - Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men. Oh! raise us up, return to us again; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.