A cyclopædia of poetical quotations, arranged by H.G. Adams1853 - 733 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 9
... hast to do . Dress and undress thy soul . Watch the decay , And growth of it . If with thy watch , that too Be down , then wind up both . Since we shall be Most surely judged , make thy accounts agree . Herbert . Why were they proud ...
... hast to do . Dress and undress thy soul . Watch the decay , And growth of it . If with thy watch , that too Be down , then wind up both . Since we shall be Most surely judged , make thy accounts agree . Herbert . Why were they proud ...
الصفحة 30
... hast , and get fine gold for dross : Still , see thou scatter wisely ; for to fling Good seed on rocks , or sands , or thorny ground , Were not to copy Him , whose generous cross Hath this poor world with rich salvation crowned , And ...
... hast , and get fine gold for dross : Still , see thou scatter wisely ; for to fling Good seed on rocks , or sands , or thorny ground , Were not to copy Him , whose generous cross Hath this poor world with rich salvation crowned , And ...
الصفحة 37
... hast truly done . Shakspere . To my sick soul , as sin's true nature is , Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss . Shakspere . O ye powers that search The heart of man , and weigh his inmost thoughts ! If I have done amiss , impute ...
... hast truly done . Shakspere . To my sick soul , as sin's true nature is , Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss . Shakspere . O ye powers that search The heart of man , and weigh his inmost thoughts ! If I have done amiss , impute ...
الصفحة 40
... hast the sweetest face I ever looked on ; For , as I have a soul , she is an angel . Shakspere . Thus they in heaven , above the starry sphere , Their happy hours in joy and hymning spent . — Milton . Angels , contented with their fame ...
... hast the sweetest face I ever looked on ; For , as I have a soul , she is an angel . Shakspere . Thus they in heaven , above the starry sphere , Their happy hours in joy and hymning spent . — Milton . Angels , contented with their fame ...
الصفحة 59
... Hast stung the traveller ; and after hear'st Not his pursuing voice ; e'en when thou think'st To hide , the rustling leaves and bended grass Confess , and point the path which thou hast crept . O fate of fools ! officious in contriving ...
... Hast stung the traveller ; and after hear'st Not his pursuing voice ; e'en when thou think'st To hide , the rustling leaves and bended grass Confess , and point the path which thou hast crept . O fate of fools ! officious in contriving ...
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.