Laura; or, An anthology of sonnets ... and elegiac quatorzains, English, Italian [&c.] original and translated. With a preface, notes, المجلد 3

الغلاف الأمامي
 

طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات

عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة

مقاطع مشهورة

الصفحة cclix - O yet a nobler task awaits thy hand, (For what can war, but endless war still breed ?) Till truth and right from violence be freed, And public faith clear'd from the shameful brand Of public fraud. In vain doth valour bleed, While avarice and rapine share the land.
الصفحة ccclxxxvi - That ere through age or woe I shed my wings I may record thy worth with honour due, In verse as musical as thou art true, And that immortalizes whom it sings : — But thou hast little need. There is a Book By seraphs writ with beams of heavenly light, On which the eyes of God not rarely look, A chronicle of actions just and bright — There all thy deeds, my faithful Mary, shine ; And since thou own'st that praise, I spare thee mine.
الصفحة ccclxxxvi - MARY ! I want a lyre with other strings, Such aid from heaven as some have feign'd they drew, An eloquence scarce given to mortals, new And undebased by praise of meaner things, That ere through age or woe I shed my wings I may record thy worth with honour due, In verse as musical as thou art true, And that immortalizes whom it sings:— But thou hast little need. There is...
الصفحة cccxvii - I love to rise ere gleams the tardy light, Winter's pale dawn ; and as warm fires illume, And cheerful tapers shine around the room, Through misty windows bend my musing sight Where, round the dusky lawn, the mansions white, With shutters closed, peer faintly through the gloom, That slow recedes; while yon gray spires assume, Rising from their dark pile, an added height By indistinctness given.
الصفحة ccclv - Plodding alone through sleet and drifting snows. They should have drawn thee by the high-heapt hearth, Old Winter ! seated in thy great arm'd chair, Watching the children at their Christmas mirth ; Or circled by them as thy lips declare Some merry jest or tale of murder dire, Or troubled spirit that disturbs the night, Pausing at times to rouse the mouldering fire, Or taste the old October brown and bright.
الصفحة cccix - Out-stript, than they did all that went before : And present worth in all dost so contract, As others speak, but only thou dost act. Wear this renown. Tis just, that who did give So many poets life, by one should live.
الصفحة cdxl - HARRY, whose tuneful and well-measured song First taught our English music how to span Words with just note and accent, not to scan With Midas...
الصفحة cccxiv - Tis poor MATILDA ! — To the cloister'd scene, A mourner, beauteous and unknown, she came, To shed her tears unmark'd, and quench the flame Of fruitless love : yet was her look serene As the pale moonlight in the midnight aisle; — Her voice was soft, which yet a charm could lend, Like that which spoke of a departed friend, And a meek sadness sat upon her smile ! — Now, far remov'd from every earthly ill, Her woes are bury'd, and her heart is still.
الصفحة ccclxxxi - I find no peace, and all my war is done; I fear and hope; I burn, and freeze like ice; I fly aloft, yet can I not arise; And nought I have, and all the world I season.
الصفحة ccclxxxi - Nor letteth me live, nor die, at my devise, And yet of death it giveth me occasion. Without eye I see ; without tongue I plain : I wish to perish, yet I ask for health ; I love another, and I hate myself; I feed me in sorrow, and laugh in all my pain.

معلومات المراجع