The works of Virgil, closely rendered into Engl. rhythm and illustr. from British poets by R.C. Singleton, Volum 1 |
Des de l'interior del llibre
Resultats 1 - 5 de 100.
Pàgina 2
... Unto me aye a god ; his altar oft A tender lambkin from our folds shall steep . He hath allowed my kine to range abroad , As you perceive , and e'en myself to play What [ airs ] I list upon my rural reed . MELIBEUS . In sooth I envy not ...
... Unto me aye a god ; his altar oft A tender lambkin from our folds shall steep . He hath allowed my kine to range abroad , As you perceive , and e'en myself to play What [ airs ] I list upon my rural reed . MELIBEUS . In sooth I envy not ...
Pàgina 4
... Unto my home my right hand would return . MELIBUS . I used to marvel why , in mournful mood , Thou , Amaryllis , wouldst the gods invoke ; For whom thou wouldst allow the fruits to hang Upon their native tree : [ thy ] Tityrus Was hence ...
... Unto my home my right hand would return . MELIBUS . I used to marvel why , in mournful mood , Thou , Amaryllis , wouldst the gods invoke ; For whom thou wouldst allow the fruits to hang Upon their native tree : [ thy ] Tityrus Was hence ...
Pàgina 8
... unto what a pass Disunion us unhappy citizens Hath brought ! See for whom we have sown the fields ! O Melibœus , thy pear - trees ; Graft now , Set out thy vines a - row . Once happy flock , away ! Away , my goats , I you ne'er more ...
... unto what a pass Disunion us unhappy citizens Hath brought ! See for whom we have sown the fields ! O Melibœus , thy pear - trees ; Graft now , Set out thy vines a - row . Once happy flock , away ! Away , my goats , I you ne'er more ...
Pàgina 17
... , Monday , 20-30 . It ought perhaps to be remarked , however , that what he gains in truth he often loses in refinement , —his images sometimes VOL . I. C With wand unto the nations the whole sphere ; The V. 38-40 . 17 ECLOGUE III .
... , Monday , 20-30 . It ought perhaps to be remarked , however , that what he gains in truth he often loses in refinement , —his images sometimes VOL . I. C With wand unto the nations the whole sphere ; The V. 38-40 . 17 ECLOGUE III .
Pàgina 18
Publius Vergilius Maro. With wand unto the nations the whole sphere ; The seasons which the sickleman , those which The stooping ploughman should observe ? My lips I never yet have unto them approached , But keep them up in store ...
Publius Vergilius Maro. With wand unto the nations the whole sphere ; The seasons which the sickleman , those which The stooping ploughman should observe ? My lips I never yet have unto them approached , But keep them up in store ...
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The Works of Virgil, Closely Rendered Into Engl. Rhythm and Illustr. from ... Publius Vergilius Maro Previsualització no disponible - 2016 |
Frases i termes més freqüents
Æneas Æneid altars amid Amyntas Anchises Annus Mirabilis Arethuse arms Ascanius Bacchus bear bees behold beneath billows blood breath Cæsar Ceres clouds Corydon Creusa Daphnis death deep Dido dost doth dread Dryden e'en earth Eclogue eyes Faerie Queene fane fates fear fields fire flames flock flood forests gales Georgic goddess gods gold Greeks groan grove hand hath heaven Helenus hence Iulus Jove king land light Line lofty Lycidas MENALCAS mighty Milton mind MOPSUS mountains Mycena neath night o'er Paradise Lost plain poet Priam prose race rage realm render rocks round scarce seems shade Shakspeare shalt shores sing sire sleep sooth soul Spenser spring stars steeds storm stream swains sweet tears Teucrians thee thou tilths Tityrus toil translation trees Trojan Troy Tyrians unto verses vine Virgil waves wight wild winds wings woods words wretched 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.