The Poetical Works of William CollinsW. Pickering, 1830 - 150 էջ |
From inside the book
Արդյունքներ 19–ի 1-ից 5-ը:
Էջ v
... leave behind them the most interest- ing work a writer could compose , and which would embrace nearly all the important facts in his career , a " History of his Books , " containing the motives which produced them , the various ...
... leave behind them the most interest- ing work a writer could compose , and which would embrace nearly all the important facts in his career , a " History of his Books , " containing the motives which produced them , the various ...
Էջ vi
... leaves no authentic notice of their strug- gles , its hopes , or its disappointments . Nor is the history of writers to be expected from their contemporaries ; because few will venture to an- ticipate the judgment of posterity , and ...
... leaves no authentic notice of their strug- gles , its hopes , or its disappointments . Nor is the history of writers to be expected from their contemporaries ; because few will venture to an- ticipate the judgment of posterity , and ...
Էջ vii
... leaving it to another to erect a fabric out of the materials which he has collected , instead of being himself the architect , Mr. Dyce . has evinced a degree of modesty which those who know him must greatly lament . WILLIAM COLLINS was ...
... leaving it to another to erect a fabric out of the materials which he has collected , instead of being himself the architect , Mr. Dyce . has evinced a degree of modesty which those who know him must greatly lament . WILLIAM COLLINS was ...
Էջ xxvi
... leave of me ; but he grew better ; and in the summer he sent me a letter on some private business , which I have now by me , dated Chichester , June 9 , 1751 , written in a fine hand , and without the least symptom of a disordered or ...
... leave of me ; but he grew better ; and in the summer he sent me a letter on some private business , which I have now by me , dated Chichester , June 9 , 1751 , written in a fine hand , and without the least symptom of a disordered or ...
Էջ xxvii
... leaving England for Scotland , in the octave stanza , very long , and beginning , Home , thou return'st from Thames . " I remember there was a beautiful description of the spectre of a man drowned in the night , or , in the language of ...
... leaving England for Scotland , in the octave stanza , very long , and beginning , Home , thou return'st from Thames . " I remember there was a beautiful description of the spectre of a man drowned in the night , or , in the language of ...
Այլ խմբագրություններ - View all
Common terms and phrases
Abra admiration allegorical ANTISTROPHE appear bard beautiful blank verse blest breathe character charm Chichester Circassia Collins's Colonel Martin CYMBELINE death delight demyship drest E'en Eclogues expression eyes fair fame Fancy Fear feel flowers fond genius grace Gray grief grove hair hand happy harmony hear heart honour hope hour imagery imagination inspired isle Johnson Joseph Warton lived lyre Magdalen College magic maid merit midst mind moral mountains mourn murmurs Muse myrtles native nature numbers nymph o'er Oxford passions pastoral Pity Pity's plain poems poet poet's poetical poetry pour'd Queen's College racter rage Richard Collins rove royal Abbas scene sentiment shade Shakespeare shepherds SIR THOMAS HANMER sister song Sophocles sound strain sublime sung swain sweet taste tears tender thee Theocritus Thomas Warton Thomson thou thought tion toil truth vale VARIATIONS verse Warton wild William Collins writing youth
Սիրված հատվածներ
Էջ 50 - While Spring shall pour his showers, as oft he wont, • And bathe thy breathing tresses, meekest Eve ! While Summer loves to sport Beneath thy lingering light, While sallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves, Or Winter, yelling through the troublous air, Affrights thy shrinking train, And rudely rends thy robes, — So long, regardful of thy quiet rule, Shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, smiling Peace, Thy gentlest influence own, And love thy favourite name.
Էջ 48 - O'erhang his wavy bed, Now air is hush'd, save where the weak-eyed bat With short shrill shriek flits by on leathern wing, Or where the beetle winds His small but sullen horn...
Էջ 50 - Or find some ruin midst its dreary dells, Whose walls more awful nod By thy religious gleams. Or if chill blustering winds or driving rain Prevent my willing feet, be mine the hut That, from the mountain's side, Views wilds and swelling floods, And hamlets brown, and dim-discover'd spires ; And hears their simple bell ; and marks o'er all Thy dewy fingers draw The gradual dusky veil.
Էջ 59 - ... twas wild. But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair, What was thy delighted measure ! Still it whispered promised pleasure, And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail...
Էջ 61 - Tempe's vale, her native maids, Amidst the festal sounding shades, To some unwearied minstrel dancing ; While, as his flying fingers kiss'd the strings, Love framed with Mirth a gay fantastic round : Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound; And he, amidst his frolic play, As if he would the charming air repay, Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings.
Էջ 60 - Pour'd through the mellow horn her pensive soul: And dashing soft from rocks around Bubbling runnels join'd the sound; Through glades and glooms the mingled measure stole, Or, o'er some haunted stream, with fond delay, Round an holy calm diffusing, Love of peace, and lonely musing, In hollow murmurs died away.
Էջ 62 - E'en all at once together found, Cecilia's mingled world of sound — O bid our vain endeavours cease ; Revive the just designs of Greece : Return in all thy simple state! Confirm the tales her sons relate ! ODE ON THE DEATH OF MR.
Էջ 59 - Echo still through all the song; And, where her sweetest theme she chose, A soft responsive voice was heard at every close: And Hope enchanted smiled, and waved her golden hair...
Էջ 61 - But soon he saw the brisk awakening viol, Whose sweet entrancing voice he loved the best. They would have thought who heard the strain. They saw in Tempe's...
Էջ 112 - Ye mute companions of my toils, that bear In all my griefs a more than equal share, Here, where no springs in murmurs break away, Or...