British Anthologies, Том 8Edward Arber Henry Frowde, 1899 |
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ALEXANDER POPE ANON APOLLO arms Beau Beauty Beggar's Opera BELINDA bless bonny bosom breast bright BROOM OF COWDENKNOWS cellany charms CHLOE CLOE COLIN COUNTESS OF SUFFOLK Countess of WINCHILSEA cried Crown 8vo CUPID DAMON dart dear DELIA delight Derry despair DODSLEY'S Collection e'er Edited EDWARD ARBER ev'ry Extra fcap eyes fair fate fear flame flowers gentle give grace happy hear heart Heaven JOSEPH ADDISON King kiss Lady live look Lord Lord LANSDOWNE Lord LYTTELTON Lover LYTTELTON Maid mind Miscellany Muse Musical ne'er never night Numbers Nymph o'er Oxford India Paper pain play pleasure Poetical POPE ANTHOLOGY pride real Passion Shepherd shine sighs sing smile soft Song soul STREPHON Swain sweet MOLLY Sylphs tears tell tender THALESTRIS thee thou thought thrice trembling trifle Twas VENUS Verse vows W. W. SKEAT wind Youth
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Стр. 263 - When Britain first, at Heaven's command, Arose from out the azure main ; This was the charter of the land, And guardian angels sung this strain : " Rule, Britannia, rule the waves; Britons never will be slaves!
Стр. 35 - Here will I hold. If there's a power above us (And that there is, all Nature cries aloud Through all her works), he must delight in virtue ; And that which he delights in must be happy.
Стр. 21 - And hence th' egregious wizard shall foredoom The fate of Louis, and the fall of Rome. Then cease, bright nymph ! to mourn thy ravished hair, Which adds new glory to the shining sphere! Not all the tresses that fair head can boast, Shall draw such envy as the Lock you lost. For after all the murders of your eye, When, after millions slain, yourself shall die; When those fair suns shall set, as set they must, And all those tresses shall be laid in dust, This lock the Muse shall consecrate to fame,...
Стр. 18 - Heroes' and heroines' shouts confusedly rise, And bass and treble voices strike the skies. No common weapons in their hands are found, Like gods they fight, nor dread a mortal wound. So when bold Homer makes the gods engage, And...
Стр. 14 - Clipp'd from the lovely head where late it grew) That, while my nostrils draw the vital air, This hand, which won it, shall for ever wear.
Стр. 258 - King! Long live our noble King! God save the King! Send him victorious, Happy and glorious, Long to reign over us! God save the King!
Стр. 148 - Twas when the seas were roaring With hollow blasts of wind, A damsel lay deploring All on a rock reclined. Wide o'er the foaming billows She cast a wistful look; Her head was crown'd with willows That trembled o'er the brook. " ' Twelve months are gone and over, And nine long tedious days; Why didst thou, venturous lover — Why didst thou trust the seas ? Cease, cease, thou cruel Ocean, And let my lover rest; Ah!