The Wreath: Containing The Minstrel and Other Favorite Poems, to which is Added the Life of BeattieW. Suttaby & B. Corrall, 1806 - Всего страниц: 153 |
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The Wreath, Containing The Minstrel [by James Beattie] and Other Favorite ... James Beattie Недоступно для просмотра - 1806 |
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Aberdeen beauty Behold beneath blest bloom bosom breast breath brow calm Caracalla Charing Cross charms clouds dark dead death deep Distress dome dread dust earth Epicurus eternal Etruscan ev'n fair fame Fancy fear fled fond gentle gloomy grave Greece grief groves hand hear heart Heaven hope hour imperial Rome James Beattie lonely lov'd lyre Marischal College mighty mind Minstrel mortal mourn Muse Musidora Nature's ne'er night nymph o'er once pain Palemon peace pity pleasure poison'd pomp pride proud rage rais'd round rude ruin scene seem'd shade sigh silence skies smile soft solemn song sorrows soul sound sting storm stream sublime sweet tears tell tempest thee thine thou thro Tiber toil tomb trembling truth Twas vale virtue voice wandering waves weep whate'er wild wind wings wretch youth
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Стр. 11 - But who the melodies of morn can tell ? — The wild brook babbling down the mountain side ; The lowing herd ; the sheepfold's simple bell ; The pipe of early shepherd dim descried In the lone valley ; echoing far and wide, The clamorous horn along the cliffs above ; The hollow murmur of the ocean-tide ; The hum of bees ; the linnet's lay of love ; And the full choir that wakes the universal grove.
Стр. 112 - Her buskins gemm'd with morning dew, Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung The hunter's call, to Faun and Dryad known.
Стр. 3 - O, how canst thou renounce the boundless store Of charms which Nature to her votary yields ! The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields ; All that the genial ray of morning gilds, » And all that echoes to the song of even, All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, And all the dread magnificence of Heaven...
Стр. 111 - twas wild. But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair, What was thy delighted measure ? Still it whisper'd promis'd pleasure, And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail...
Стр. 113 - Tempe's vale, her native maids, Amidst the festal sounding shades, To some unwearied minstrel dancing, While, as his flying fingers kissed 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.
Стр. 8 - And be it so. Let those deplore their doom, " Whose hope still grovels in this dark sojourn. " But lofty souls, who look beyond the tomb, " Can smile at Fate, and wonder how they mourn. " Shall spring to these sad scenes no more return ? " Is yonder wave the sun's eternal bed ? " Soon shall the orient with new lustre burn, " And spring shall soon her vital influence shed, Again attiuje the grove, again adorn the mead.
Стр. vi - AH ! who can tell how hard it is to climb The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar; Ah! who can tell how many a soul sublime Has felt the influence of malignant star, And waged with Fortune an eternal war; Check'd by the scoff of Pride, by Envy's frown, And Poverty's unconquerable bar, In life's low vale remote has pined alone, Then dropt into the grave, unpitied and unknown...
Стр. 113 - Tis said and I believe the tale, Thy humblest reed could more prevail Had more of strength, diviner rage, Than all which charms this laggard age...
Стр. 77 - Ah ! why will Kings forget that they are Men ? And Men that they are brethren ? Why delight In human sacrifice ? Why burst the ties Of Nature, that should knit their souls together In one soft bond of amity and love...
Стр. 112 - He threw his blood-stained sword in thunder down, And with a withering look The war-denouncing trumpet took, And blew a blast so loud and dread, Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe. And ever and anon he beat...