New elegant extracts; a selection from the most eminent British poets and poetical translators, by R.A. Davenport, Volume 4 |
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Page 13
... spirits frolicksome as good , Thy courage by no ills dismay'd , Thy patience by no wrongs subdued , 6 Thy gay good humour - Can they fade ! " Perhaps but sorrow dims my eye ; Cold turf , which I no more must view , Dear name , which I ...
... spirits frolicksome as good , Thy courage by no ills dismay'd , Thy patience by no wrongs subdued , 6 Thy gay good humour - Can they fade ! " Perhaps but sorrow dims my eye ; Cold turf , which I no more must view , Dear name , which I ...
Page 19
... And on thy lips my spirit mix with thine . Now o'er dark wilds , or rugged rocks we stray , Love lights the gloom , and smooths the dreary way ; Now on soft banks our weary limbs repose , Where ELEGIES , AMATORY AND MISCELLANEOUS . 19.
... And on thy lips my spirit mix with thine . Now o'er dark wilds , or rugged rocks we stray , Love lights the gloom , and smooths the dreary way ; Now on soft banks our weary limbs repose , Where ELEGIES , AMATORY AND MISCELLANEOUS . 19.
Page 21
... spirits loved to glow ! No more these eyes with youthful rapture shine , Nor cheeks , soft blushing , speak a warmth divine ; Graceful no more amid the festive dance My steps with easy dignity advance , And all the glossy locks , whose ...
... spirits loved to glow ! No more these eyes with youthful rapture shine , Nor cheeks , soft blushing , speak a warmth divine ; Graceful no more amid the festive dance My steps with easy dignity advance , And all the glossy locks , whose ...
Page 64
... spirit hath painted It never hath found but in thee . Then when nature around me is smiling The last smile which answers to mine , I do not believe it beguiling , Because it reminds me of thine ; And when winds are at war with the ocean ...
... spirit hath painted It never hath found but in thee . Then when nature around me is smiling The last smile which answers to mine , I do not believe it beguiling , Because it reminds me of thine ; And when winds are at war with the ocean ...
Page 65
... spirit of thee . LORD BYRON . LOVE ELEGY . Now sunk in dumb despondence on the thorn , Where nightly perch'd she pours her solemn lay , Sad Philomel beholds the gradual morn , Bright and yet brighter , kindle into day . Sweet child of ...
... spirit of thee . LORD BYRON . LOVE ELEGY . Now sunk in dumb despondence on the thorn , Where nightly perch'd she pours her solemn lay , Sad Philomel beholds the gradual morn , Bright and yet brighter , kindle into day . Sweet child of ...
Common terms and phrases
adieu beams beauty beguile beneath bless bless'd bliss bloom bosom cold bower breast breath bright CHARLOTTE SMITH charm cheek cheer dark dear death despair dream e'er ELEGY eyes fade fair Fair city Fancy farewell fate feel flame flowers fond gale gay nature gentle gloom glow grace grave grief grove hast hear heart Heaven honours hope HOTWELLS hour hour of victory life's lips lonely LORD BYRON love restore love's Lover Lycidas lyre Maid with bosom mind Monody morn mourn Muse Naiad ne'er night nymph o'er pain pale pangs pass'd peace pity pride rapture rill rise round scenes scorn shade shine shore sigh silent skies sleep smile soft song soothe sorrows soul spring strain stream sweet tear tempest tender thee thine thou thought tomb Twas vale virtue voice wake wandering wave weep wild winds youth
Popular passages
Page 170 - Would'st softly speak, and stroke my head, and smile) Could those few pleasant days again appear, Might one wish bring them, would I wish them here ? I would not trust my heart ; — the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might.
Page 193 - Ay me, I fondly dream, Had ye been there! — for what could that have done? What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore, The Muse herself, for her enchanting son Whom universal nature did lament, When by the rout that made the hideous roar His gory visage down the stream was sent, Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore?
Page 172 - Thy indistinct expressions seem Like language utter'd in a dream ; Yet me they charm, whate'er the theme, My Mary! Thy silver locks, once auburn bright, Are still more lovely in my sight Than golden beams of orient light, My Mary ! For, could I view nor them nor thee, What sight worth seeing could I see ? The sun would rise in vain for me, My Mary ! Partakers of thy sad decline, Thy hands their little force resign ; Yet gently prest, press gently mine, My Mary!
Page 195 - Enow of such, as for their bellies' sake Creep and intrude and climb into the fold! Of other care they little reckoning make Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast, And shove away the worthy bidden guest; Blind mouths!
Page 198 - Henceforth thou art the genius of the shore In thy large recompense, and shalt be good To all that wander in that perilous flood.
Page 197 - Where the great vision of the guarded mount Looks toward Namancos and Bayona's hold ; Look homeward, angel, now, and melt with ruth : And, O ye dolphins, waft the hapless youth.
Page 197 - Through the dear might of Him that walked the waves, Where, other groves and other streams along, With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, And hears the unexpressive nuptial song, In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love. There entertain him all the Saints above, In solemn troops, and sweet societies, That sing, and singing in their glory move, 180 And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
Page 193 - O the heavy change, now thou art gone, Now thou art gone and never must return! Thee, Shepherd, thee the Woods, and desert Caves, With wild Thyme and the gadding Vine o'ergrown, And all their echoes, mourn. The Willows, and the Hazel Copses green, Shall now no more be seen, Fanning their joyous Leaves to thy soft lays.
Page 170 - Shoots into port at some well-havened isle, Where spices breathe and brighter seasons smile, There sits quiescent on the floods, that show Her beauteous form reflected clear below, While airs impregnated with incense play Around her, fanning light her streamers gay, So thou, with sails how swift, hast reached the shore 'Where tempests never beat nor billows roar,' And thy loved consort on the dangerous tide Of life long since has anchored by thy side.
Page 126 - Sighs must fan it, tears must water, Sweat of ours must dress the soil. Think, ye masters iron-hearted, Lolling at your jovial boards ; Think how many backs have smarted For the sweets your cane affords.