The British Poets: Including Translations ...C. Whittingham, 1822 - Classical poetry |
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Common terms and phrases
Agrigentum AMBROSE PHILIPS ANACREON ANTISTROPHE Bacchus beauteous beauty beneath birds bless'd boast breathe bright charms cheerful Colinet Colinet's distress Comus courser cries crowd delight Dorset dreadful EPODE express Fair Stella's eyes Fair Stella's death fairy fame fate flies flowers fond Frog gentle GILBERT WEST glory grace grief grove heart Hesiod HOBBINOL join'd Jove joys labour LANQUET Let those love maid Measures 16 mind mote Muse MYCO night note express Fair numbers nymph o'er pain PARNELL pass'd PASTORAL Pelops Philips Pindar pipe plain pleasing pleasure POEMS poets Pope praise pride rage reign rise round sacred seem'd shade shepherds shine silent sing skies smiles song soul sound spring STROPHE swains sweet tender thee THENOT Theocritus thine THOMAS PARNELL thou thought throng toil train trees tuneful Twas vale verse Virgil virgin virtue voice wanton ween winds wood youth
Popular passages
Page 133 - Far in a wild, unknown to public view, From youth to age a reverend Hermit grew; The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell, His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well: Remote from man, with God he pass'd the days, Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise. A life so sacred, such serene repose,
Page 122 - anger, and all pride, The rage of power, the blast of public breath, The lust of lucre, and the dread of death. In vain to deserts thy retreat is made ; The Muse attends thee to thy silent shade: Tis her's, the brave man's latest steps to trace, Rejudge his
Page 113 - A FRAGMENT OF SAPPHO. Bless'd as the' immortal gods is he, The youth who fondly sits by thee, And hears and sees thee all the while Softly speak, and sweetly smile. Twas this deprived my soul of rest, And raised such tumults in my breast; For while I gazed, in transport toss'd, My breath was gone, my voice was lost.
Page 141 - the silent water laves. That steeple guides thy doubtful sight Among the livid gleams of night. There pass, with melancholy state, By all the solemn heaps of fate, And think, as softly sad you tread Above the venerable dead, ' Time was, like thee they life possess'd, And time shall be, that thou shalt rest.
Page 139 - on costly food, Whose life was too luxurious to be good; Who made his ivory stands with goblets shine, And forced his guests to morning draughts of wine; Has, with the cup, the graceless custom lost, And still he welcomes, but with less of cost.
Page 134 - the day, A youth came posting o'er a crossing way; His raiment decent, his complexion fair, And soft in graceful ringlets waved his hair. Then near approaching, ' Father, hail!' he cried And, ' Hail! my son,' the reverend sire replied. Words follow'd words, from question answer fiow'd, And talk of various kind
Page 142 - Whose pillars swell with sculptured stones, Arms, angels, epitaphs, and bones ; These, all the poor remains of state, Adorn the rich, or praise the great; Who while on earth in fame they live, Are senseless of the fame they give. * Ha ! while I gaze, pale Cynthia fades, The bursting earth unveils the shades: All slow, and wan, and
Page 143 - of the sky With more of happiness below, Than victors in a triumph know! W'hither, O whither art thou fled, To lay thy meek, contented head ? What happy region dost thou please To make the seat of calms and ease? ' Ambition searches all its sphere Of pomp and state to meet thee there.
Page 141 - bending osier bound, That nameless heave the crumbled ground, Quick to the glancing thought disclose Where toil and poverty repose. The flat smooth stones that bear a name, The chissel's slender help to fame, (Which ere our set of friends decay Their frequent steps may wear away;) A middle race of mortals own, Men half ambitious, all unknown. Whose
Page 134 - servants wait: Their lord receives them at the pompous gate. The table groans with costly piles of food, And all is more than hospitably good. Then led to rest, the day's long toil they drown, Deep sunk in sleep, and silk, and heaps of down. At length 'tis morn, and at the dawn of day, Along the wide canals the zephyrs play