A cyclopædia of poetical quotations, arranged by H.G. Adams1853 - 733 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 39
... Ben Jonson . I have no urns , no dusty monuments ; No broken images of ancestors , Wanting an ear or nose ; no forged tables Of long descents , to boast false honours from . Jonson . Obscure ! why prithee what am I ? I knew My father ...
... Ben Jonson . I have no urns , no dusty monuments ; No broken images of ancestors , Wanting an ear or nose ; no forged tables Of long descents , to boast false honours from . Jonson . Obscure ! why prithee what am I ? I knew My father ...
الصفحة 69
... Ben Jonson . Beaumont and Fletcher . Deaf to complaints , they wait upon the ill , Till some safe crisis authorize their skill . Authority intoxicates , And makes mere sots of magistrates ; The fumes of it invade the brain , And make ...
... Ben Jonson . Beaumont and Fletcher . Deaf to complaints , they wait upon the ill , Till some safe crisis authorize their skill . Authority intoxicates , And makes mere sots of magistrates ; The fumes of it invade the brain , And make ...
الصفحة 103
... Ben Jonson . No marvel then though charity grow cold . - Drayton . Base worldlings , that despise all such as need ; Who to the needy beggar still are dumb , Not knowing unto what themselves may come . Heywood . He makes a beggar first ...
... Ben Jonson . No marvel then though charity grow cold . - Drayton . Base worldlings , that despise all such as need ; Who to the needy beggar still are dumb , Not knowing unto what themselves may come . Heywood . He makes a beggar first ...
الصفحة 139
... Ben Jonson . The brainless stripling , who expelled the town , Damned the stiff college , and pedantic gown . - Tickell . Busy brain ! thy work is ever On ! on ! on ! What hast thou with rest to do ? Rest shall still thy throbbings ...
... Ben Jonson . The brainless stripling , who expelled the town , Damned the stiff college , and pedantic gown . - Tickell . Busy brain ! thy work is ever On ! on ! on ! What hast thou with rest to do ? Rest shall still thy throbbings ...
الصفحة 215
... Ben Jonson . I have been told , virtue in courtiers ' hearts Suffers an ostracism , and departs . Dr. Donne . True courtiers should be modest , and not nice ; Bold , but not impudent ; pleasure love , not vice . O happy they that never ...
... Ben Jonson . I have been told , virtue in courtiers ' hearts Suffers an ostracism , and departs . Dr. Donne . True courtiers should be modest , and not nice ; Bold , but not impudent ; pleasure love , not vice . O happy they that never ...
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
Aaron Hill Anon Beaumont and Fletcher beauty Ben Jonson birds bless blest blush breath bright brow Butler Byron Charles Mackay charms cheek clouds Cowper crown dark death deeds delight Denham divine doth dream Dryden earth Ebenezer Elliott Eliza Cook eternal eyes fair fame fate fear feel flowers fools gentle give glory gold grace grief hand happy hast hath heart heaven honour hope hour Joanna Baillie Jonson king light live look man's Massinger Milton mind N. P. Willis nature nature's ne'er never night noble nought numbers o'er P. J. Bailey pain passion pleasure Pollok Pope praise pride proud rich Roscommon scorn Shakspere shine sigh sleep smile sorrow soul Spenser spirit sweet Swift tears thee thine things Thomson thou art thought tongue truth unto virtue voice wind wings wise words Wordsworth Young youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 513 - I'll kneel down And ask of thee forgiveness: so we'll live, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues Talk of court news; and we'll talk with them too, — Who loses and who wins; who's in, who's out; — And take...
الصفحة 631 - EVEN such is time, that takes in trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, And pays us but with age and dust ; Who in the dark and silent grave, When we have wandered all our ways, Shuts up the story of our days ; But from this earth, this grave, this dust, My God shall raise me up, I trust.
الصفحة 121 - Thus with the year Seasons return; but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine; But cloud instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut off; and, for the book of knowledge fair, Presented with a universal blank Of Nature's works to me expunged and rased, And Wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.
الصفحة 501 - Were half the power, that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth, bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need of arsenals nor forts: The warrior's name would be a name abhorred!
الصفحة 120 - CYRIACK, this three years' day these eyes, though clear, To outward view, of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot ; Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot Of heart or hope, but still bear up and steer Right onward.
الصفحة 40 - O th' exceeding grace Of highest God ! that loves his creatures so, And all his works with mercy doth embrace, That blessed angels he sends to and fro, To serve to wicked man, to serve his wicked foe. " How oft do they their silver bowers leave To come to succour us, that succour want ? How oft do they with golden pinions cleave The flitting skies, like flying pursuivant Against foul fiends, to aid us militant? They for us fight, they watch and duly ward, And their bright squadrons round about us...
الصفحة 368 - It must be so — Plato, thou reasonest well ; Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, This longing after immortality ? Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror, Of falling into nought ? Why shrinks the soul Back on herself, and startles at destruction ? Tis the divinity that stirs within us ; 'Tis heaven itself, that points out an hereafter, And intimates eternity to man...
الصفحة 80 - 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.
الصفحة 262 - Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own ; Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind, And, even with something of a Mother's mind, And no unworthy aim, The homely Nurse doth all she can To make her Foster-child, her Inmate Man, Forget the glories he hath known, And that imperial palace whence he came. Behold the Child among his new-born blisses, A six years...
الصفحة 581 - I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earned.