Minor Poems: L'allegro, Il Penseroso, Comus, and Lycidas

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Scott, Foresman, 1904 - 165页
 

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第60页 - There, held in holy passion still, Forget thyself to marble, till With a sad leaden downward cast, Thou fix them on the earth as fast; And join with thee calm peace and quiet, Spare Fast, that oft with Gods doth diet, And hears the Muses in a ring Aye round about Jove's altar sing...
第62页 - Pelops' line, Or the tale of Troy divine ; Or what (though rare) of later age Ennobled hath the buskin'd stage. But O, sad virgin, that thy power Might raise Musaeus from his bower ? Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing Such notes as, warbled to the string, Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, And made Hell grant what love did seek.
第56页 - Sometimes with secure delight The upland hamlets will invite, When the merry bells ring round, And the jocund rebecks sound To many a youth and many a maid, Dancing in the chequered shade...
第111页 - But swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread : Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw Daily devours apace, and nothing said, But that two-handed engine at the door Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.
第111页 - That to the faithful herdman's art belongs! What recks it them? What need they? They are sped; And when they list, their lean and flashy songs Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw; The...
第108页 - For we were nursed upon the self-same hill. Fed the same flock, by fountain, shade, and rill.
第54页 - Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come, and trip it, as you go, On the light fantastic toe ; And in thy right hand lead with thee The mountain-nymph, sweet Liberty ; And, if I give thee honour due, Mirth, admit me of thy crew, To live with her, and live with thee, In unreproved pleasures free...
第109页 - Lycidas? For neither were ye playing on the steep Where your old bards, the famous druids, lie, Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high, Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard stream. Ay me, I fondly dream, Had ye been there!— for what could that have done?
第23页 - Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth, That I to manhood am arrived so near ; And inward ripeness doth much less appear, That some more timely-happy spirits indu'th.
第65页 - And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.

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