The Poetical Works of Thomas GrayJohn Sharpe, 1821 - Počet stran: 134 |
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Strana xxi
... blood . Thomas was attacked with a paroxysm of a similar kind , which was re- moved by his mother's promptly opening a vein with her own hand * . She lived to see her affec- tionate exertions and solicitudes well repaid , to witness the ...
... blood . Thomas was attacked with a paroxysm of a similar kind , which was re- moved by his mother's promptly opening a vein with her own hand * . She lived to see her affec- tionate exertions and solicitudes well repaid , to witness the ...
Strana 8
... blood defil'd , And moody Madness laughing wild Amid severest woe . Lo ! in the vale of years beneath , A grisly troop are seen , The painful family of Death , More hideous than their queen : This racks the joints , this fires the veins ...
... blood defil'd , And moody Madness laughing wild Amid severest woe . Lo ! in the vale of years beneath , A grisly troop are seen , The painful family of Death , More hideous than their queen : This racks the joints , this fires the veins ...
Strana 40
... blood be spilt ? PROPHETESS . In the caverns of the west , By Odin's fierce embrace compress'd , A wondrous boy shall Rinda bear , Who ne'er shall comb his raven - hair , dress of Thorbiorga , one of these prophetesses , is described at ...
... blood be spilt ? PROPHETESS . In the caverns of the west , By Odin's fierce embrace compress'd , A wondrous boy shall Rinda bear , Who ne'er shall comb his raven - hair , dress of Thorbiorga , one of these prophetesses , is described at ...
Strana 44
... blood , Backward Meinai rolls his flood ; While , heap'd his master's feet around , Prostrate warriors gnaw the ground . Ver . 14. Lochlin ] Denmark . Ver . 20. The dragon son of Mona stands ] The red dragon is the device of Cadwallader ...
... blood , Backward Meinai rolls his flood ; While , heap'd his master's feet around , Prostrate warriors gnaw the ground . Ver . 14. Lochlin ] Denmark . Ver . 20. The dragon son of Mona stands ] The red dragon is the device of Cadwallader ...
Strana 50
... blood his infant honour seal'd ; From fortune , pleasure , science , love , he flew , And scorn'd repose when Britain took the field . With eyes of flame , and cool undaunted breast , Victor he stood on Bellisle's rocky steeps- Ah ...
... blood his infant honour seal'd ; From fortune , pleasure , science , love , he flew , And scorn'd repose when Britain took the field . With eyes of flame , and cool undaunted breast , Victor he stood on Bellisle's rocky steeps- Ah ...
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ACERONIA AGRIPPINA ancient Anicetus arva atque auras awake Baiæ Bard beauties beneath breath brow Caernarvonshire Cambridge charm College death divine DRAWN BY RICHARD dread earl Edward Eirin Elegy Eton Eton College eyes fame fate fears feel fire genius glitt'ring golden grace Gray's hæc hear heart heav'n Hinc honour ignes John Penn JOHN SHARPE king lady latè Long Story longo Lord lyre Margaret of Anjou MASINISSA Mason mind morn mother Muse Nero o'er oculis oculos ODIN Otho passion PICCADILLY Pindar pleasure poem poet poetry Poppaa PROPHETESS quâ quæ quod racter regna reign repose rerum RICHARD WESTALL round Scilicet shade Sisters smiling soft solemn song soul spirit stanza Stoke style sublime tactus Taliessin taste tear thee THOMAS GRAY thou trembling vale verse voice Walpole weep wings written youth
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Strana 18 - Fair laughs the Morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes: Youth on the prow and Pleasure at the helm : Regardless of the sweeping Whirlwind's sway, That hushed in grim repose expects his evening prey.
Strana 19 - Fill high the sparkling bowl, The rich repast prepare, Reft of a crown, he yet may share the feast: Close by the regal chair Fell thirst and famine scowl A baleful smile upon their baffled guest. Heard ye the din of battle bray, Lance to lance, and horse to horse ? Long years of havoc urge their destined course, And thro' the kindred squadrons mow their way.
Strana 3 - Say, Father Thames, for thou hast seen Full many a sprightly race, Disporting on thy margent green, The paths of pleasure trace, Who foremost now delight to cleave With pliant arm thy glassy wave?
Strana 51 - One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill, Along the heath, and near his favourite tree ; Another came ; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he. ' The next with dirges due in sad array Slow thro' the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Strana 50 - Await alike the inevitable hour ; The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, ' If memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.
Strana 17 - Far, far aloof th' affrighted ravens sail ; The famish'd eagle screams, and passes by. Dear lost companions of my tuneful art, Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes, Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, Ye died amidst your dying country's cries — No more I weep. They do not sleep. On yonder cliffs, a...
Strana 49 - THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Strana 52 - Heaven ('twas all he wish'd) a friend. No farther seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (There they alike in trembling hope repose) The bosom of his Father and his God.
Strana 50 - Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply, And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die. For who to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er resigned, Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing lingering look behind?
Strana 4 - Alas! regardless of their doom The little victims play; No sense have they of ills to come Nor care beyond to-day: Yet see how all around 'em wait The ministers of human fate And black Misfortune's baleful train!