The Book of English ElegiesW. F. March Phillipps Sampson Low, Marston, Searle, & Rivington, 1879 - 316 էջ |
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The Book of English Elegies: Ed. by W.F.M. Phillipps William Frederick March Phillipps Դիտել հնարավոր չէ - 2016 |
Common terms and phrases
beauty Ben Jonson bliss breast breath Cheviot Christe receive thy cloth extra Colours Crown 8vo dead dear death Demy ditto doth doughty Douglas dread dust dwell E'en Early English Text earth Edition ELEGY English Text Society eternal eyes fade fair fame Fcap fear flower friends fryth gentle gilt edges glory gone grave grief hand hath hearse heart heaven honour king land life's light live lord Percy Lycidas Marston mercy mighty mortal mourning Muse ne'er never night nought Numerous Illustrations o'er pain R. D. BLACKMORE receive thy saule rest rich Rose Library Sampson Low sigh Sir Patrick Spens slain sleep Small post 8vo smile sorrow soul stars sweet tears thee thine things thou art thou hast thou shalt thought Timor mortis conturbat Tividale tomb unto virtue vols weep William Dunbar wind Woodcuts wretch young youth
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Էջ 292 - The floating Clouds their state shall lend To her ; for her the willow bend ; Nor shall she fail to see Even in the motions of the Storm Grace that shall mould the Maiden's form By silent sympathy.
Էջ 191 - Heav'n from all creatures hides the book of fate, All but the page prescribed, their present state : From brutes what men, from men what spirits know : • Or who could suffer being here below ? The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day, Had he thy reason, would he skip and play ? Pleas'd to the last, he crops the flow'ry food, And licks the hand just rais'd to shed his blood.
Էջ 122 - Be absolute for death ; either death or life Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life : If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing That none but fools would keep.
Էջ 285 - Oft in the stilly night Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Fond Memory brings the light Of other days around me : The smiles, the tears Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken ; The eyes that shone, Now dimm'd and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken ! Thus in the stilly night Ere slumber's chain lias bound me, Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me.
Էջ 159 - That from beneath the seat of Jove doth spring ; Begin, and somewhat loudly sweep the string. Hence with denial vain, and coy excuse: So may some gentle Muse With lucky words favour my destined urn ; And as he passes turn, And bid fair peace be to my sable shroud. For we were nursed upon the self-same hill. Fed the same flock, by fountain, shade, and rill.
Էջ 163 - What recks it them? What need they? They are sped; And when they list, their lean and flashy songs Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw; The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, But, swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread: Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw Daily devours apace, and nothing said. But that two-handed engine at the door, Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.
Էջ 112 - With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life ; But that the dread of something after death, — The undiscovered country, from whose bourn No traveller returns, — puzzles the will ; And makes us rather bear those ills we have, Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all...
Էջ 291 - A lovelier flower on earth was never sown; this Child I to myself will take; she shall be mine, and I will make a Lady of my own. Myself will to my darling be both law and impulse: and with me the girl, in rock and plain, in earth and heaven, in glade and bower, shall feel an overseeing power to kindle or restrain.
Էջ 119 - For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground And tell sad stories of the death of kings: How some have been deposed, some slain in war, Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed, Some poisoned by their wives, some sleeping killed — All murdered: for within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king Keeps Death his court...
Էջ 214 - Full many a gem of purest ray serene, The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear: Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Some village Hampden, that, with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood; Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood, Th...