Fables from Boccaccio and ChaucerC. Whittingham, 1822 - Всего страниц: 267 |
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Arcite arm'd arms Athens behold betwixt bless'd blood bore breast breath bride call'd cast Chanticleer coursers Creon cried crown'd Cymon dame death decree delight design'd desire dream DUCHESS OF ORMOND e'en Emily eyes fair falchions fame fate fear fear'd feast fight fire fix'd flames force fortune gain'd grace green grief ground grove hand haste heard heart Heaven honour JOHN DRYDEN join'd kind king knew knight ladies laurel light lived look'd lord Lycurgus Lysimachus maid Mars mind mix'd mortal never o'er offence pain Palamon Pasimond pass'd Philostratus Pirithous plain pleased pointed lance prescience prey prince prison proud pursue queen quire race rest return'd Reynard Rhodian royal secret seem'd side sight slain sorrow soul steed stood sweet sword Tancred tears Theban Thebes thee Theseus thine thou thought took troop turn'd Twas Venus vows wakeful eyes wife wind wood youth
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Стр. 44 - For thee, sweet month, the groves green liveries wear, If not the first, the fairest of the year : For thee the Graces lead the dancing hours, And Nature's ready pencil paints the flowers : When, thy short reign is past, the feverish sun The sultry tropic fears, and moves more slowly on. So may thy tender blossoms fear no blight, Nor goats with venom'd teeth thy tendrils bite, As thou shalt guide my wandering feet to find The fragrant greens I seek, my brows to bind.
Стр. 264 - Near though he was, yet not the next of blood. Had Richard unconstrained resigned the throne, A King can give no more than is his own; The title stood entailed, had Richard had a son. Conquest, an odious name, was laid aside Where all submitted; none the battle tried. The senseless plea of right by Providence Was, by a flattering priest, invented since And lasts no longer than the present sway, But justifies the next who comes in play.
Стр. 218 - The deep recesses of the grove he gain'd ; Where, in a plain defended by the wood, Crept through the matted grass a crystal flood, By which an alabaster fountain stood : And on the margin of the fount was laid (Attended by her slaves) a sleeping maid.
Стр. 100 - Since every man who lives, is born to die, And none can boast sincere felicity, With equal mind, what happens, let us bear, Nor joy, nor grieve too much for things beyond our care. Like pilgrims to the appointed place we tend; The world's an inn, and death the journey's end.
Стр. 261 - He bore his great commission in his look, [spoke. But sweetly temper'd awe, and soften'd all he He preach'd the joys of heaven, and pains of hell, And warn'd the sinner with becoming zeal ; But on eternal mercy loved to dwell. He taught the gospel rather than the law, And forced himself to drive, but loved to draw : For fear but freezes minds ; but love, like heat, Exhales the soul sublime to seek her native seat.
Стр. 218 - The fanning wind upon her bosom blows ; To meet the fanning wind the bosom rose ; The fanning wind and purling streams continue her repose.
Стр. 69 - And that a sleeve embroidered by his love. With Palamon above the rest in place, Lycurgus came, the surly king of Thrace; Black was his beard, and manly was his face « The balls of his broad eyes rolled in his head, And glared betwixt a yellow and a red; He looked a lion with a gloomy stare, And o'er his eyebrows hung his matted hair; Big-boned and large of limbs, with sinews strong, 45 Broad-shouldered, and his arms were round and long.
Стр. 154 - Whether she sprung a leak, I cannot find, — . Or whether she was overset with wind, Or that some rock below her bottom rent . But down at once with all her crew she went : Her fellow-ships from far her loss descried ; But only she was sunk, and all were safe beside.
Стр. 236 - To bear the purchas'd prize in safety to the shore. The troop retires, the lovers close the rear, With forward faces not confessing fear : Backward they move, but scorn their pace to mend, Then seek the stairs, and with slow haste descend.
Стр. 241 - Nor wants the holy leer to country girl betwixt. From fiends and imps he sets the village free, There haunts not any incubus but he. The maids and women need no danger fear To walk by night, and sanctity so near : For by some haycock, or some shady thorn, He bids his beads both even-song and morn.