The works of Virgil, closely rendered into Engl. rhythm and illustr. from British poets by R.C. Singleton, Volum 1 |
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Resultats 1 - 5 de 54.
Pàgina 6
... sire decay'd , The modest matron , and the blushing maid , Forced from their homes , a melancholy train , To traverse climes beyond the western main ; Where wild Oswego spreads her swamps around , And Niagara stuns with thundering sound ...
... sire decay'd , The modest matron , and the blushing maid , Forced from their homes , a melancholy train , To traverse climes beyond the western main ; Where wild Oswego spreads her swamps around , And Niagara stuns with thundering sound ...
Pàgina 16
... sire , I have a rigorous stepdame ; And twice a day do they both reckon o'er The flock , and one of them the kids . But that , Which thou thyself far costlier wilt allow , ( Seeing it is thy fancy to be mad , ) I'll pledge my beechen ...
... sire , I have a rigorous stepdame ; And twice a day do they both reckon o'er The flock , and one of them the kids . But that , Which thou thyself far costlier wilt allow , ( Seeing it is thy fancy to be mad , ) I'll pledge my beechen ...
Pàgina 78
... Sire himself Hath willed that easy should not be the way Of tillage , and first roused the lands by skill , Whetting by cares the wits of human kind : Neither did he allow his realms to rust In heavy lethargy . Ere Jove no swains ...
... Sire himself Hath willed that easy should not be the way Of tillage , and first roused the lands by skill , Whetting by cares the wits of human kind : Neither did he allow his realms to rust In heavy lethargy . Ere Jove no swains ...
Pàgina 88
... Sire in ruins laid The up - piled mountains with his flash . The seventh After the tenth is lucky both to plant The vine , and captured oxen to break in , And to attach the leashes to the warp ; The ninth for flight is better , foe to ...
... Sire in ruins laid The up - piled mountains with his flash . The seventh After the tenth is lucky both to plant The vine , and captured oxen to break in , And to attach the leashes to the warp ; The ninth for flight is better , foe to ...
Pàgina 91
... Sire himself amid a night of clouds With gleaming right hand wields his levin - bolts : At which his movement vasty earth doth quake , Wild beasts have fled away , and hearts of men Throughout the nations crouching fear hath sunk . He ...
... Sire himself amid a night of clouds With gleaming right hand wields his levin - bolts : At which his movement vasty earth doth quake , Wild beasts have fled away , and hearts of men Throughout the nations crouching fear hath sunk . He ...
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Frases i termes més freqüents
altars appear arms bear beneath blood borne breath bring clouds comes course death deep doth dread Dryden e'en earth eyes fair fall fates fear fell fields fire flock flood force give gods gold grove hand hath head heaven hence hope Italy king land leaves light Line lofty look Lost means mighty Milton mind mother mountains night o'er once passage plain poet present Queene race render rising rocks round scarce seek seems shade Shakspeare shores side sing sire sleep sooth soul speaks Spenser spring stand stars storm stream sweet tears thee things thou throughout translation trees Troy turn unto vine Virgil waters waves whole wild winds wings woods young youth
Passatges populars
Pàgina 355 - The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold; Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were love-sick with them; the oars were silver, Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water which "they beat to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes.
Pàgina 180 - How many thousand of my poorest subjects Are at this hour asleep ! — O Sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness ? Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber ; Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great...
Pàgina 55 - Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimm'd The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds, And 'twixt the green sea and the azured vault Set roaring war...
Pàgina vi - I had rather be a kitten, and cry mew, Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers ; I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn'd, Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree ; And that would set my teeth nothing on edge, Nothing so much as mincing poetry ; — 'Tis like the forc'd gait of a shuffling nag.
Pàgina 311 - Thus much of this, will make Black, white; foul, fair; wrong, right; Base, noble; old, young; coward, valiant. Ha, you gods ! why this ? What this, you gods ? Why this Will lug your priests and servants from your sides ; Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads: This yellow slave Will knit and break religions; bless the accurs'd; Make the hoar leprosy ador'd ; place thieves, And give them title, knee, and approbation, With senators on the bench...
Pàgina 194 - Where some, like magistrates, correct at home, Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the...
Pàgina 351 - To-day, my lord of Amiens and myself Did steal behind him, as he lay along Under an oak whose antique root peeps out Upon the brook that brawls along this wood : To the which place a poor sequester'd stag, That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt...
Pàgina 120 - This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war, This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands, This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England...
Pàgina 101 - The night has been unruly : where we lay, Our chimneys were blown down ; and, as they say, Lamentings heard i...
Pàgina 232 - To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in Heaven. As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.