Ornithologia, Or The Birds: A Poem, in Two Parts with an Introduction to Their Natural History; and Copious Note, 第 1-2 部分

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Poole and Edwards, 1828 - 468页
 

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第151页 - The raven himself is hoarse That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan Under my battlements. Come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full Of direst cruelty! Make thick my blood; Stop up...
第71页 - Why sleep'st thou, Eve? now is the pleasant time, The cool, the silent, save where silence yields To the night-warbling bird, that now awake Tunes sweetest his love-labour'd song, now reigns Full orb'd the moon, and with more pleasing light Shadowy sets off the face of things, in vain, If none regard; heaven wakes with all his eyes, Whom to behold but thee, nature's desire?
第48页 - In glassy breadth, seem, through delusive lapse, Forgetful of their course. 'Tis silence all, And pleasing expectation. Herds and flocks Drop the dry sprig, and, mute-imploring, eye The falling verdure. Hushed in short suspense, The plumy people streak their wings with oil, To throw the lucid moisture trickling off, And wait the approaching sign, to strike at once Into the general choir.
第74页 - Superior heard, run through the sweetest length Of notes; when listening Philomela deigns To let them joy, and purposes, in thought Elate, to make her night excel their day.
第145页 - See! from the brake the whirring pheasant springs, And mounts exulting on triumphant wings: Short is his joy; he feels the fiery wound, Flutters in blood, and panting beats the ground. Ah! what avail his glossy, varying dyes, His purple crest, and scarlet-circled eyes, The vivid green his shining plumes unfold, His painted wings, and breast that flames with gold?
第81页 - Nestling repair, and to the thicket some ; Some to the rude protection of the thorn Commit their feeble offspring : the cleft tree Offers its kind concealment to a few, Their food its insects, and its moss their nests. Others apart, far in the grassy dale, Or roughening waste, their humble texture weave.
第154页 - THERE is a bird, who by his coat, And by the hoarseness of his note, Might be supposed a crow; A great frequenter of the church, Where bishoplike he finds a perch, And dormitory too. Above the steeple shines a plate, That turns and turns, to indicate From what point blows the weather. Look up— your brains begin to swim, 'Tis in the clouds— that pleases him, He chooses it the rather.
第74页 - Up springs the lark, 590 Shrill-voiced and loud, the messenger of morn : Ere yet the shadows fly, he mounted sings Amid the dawning clouds, and from their haunts Calls up the tuneful nations.
第118页 - He sang of love, with quiet blending, Slow to begin, and never ending ; Of serious faith, and inward glee ; That was the song, the song for me...
第147页 - Till the dappled dawn doth rise; Then to come, in spite of sorrow, And at my window bid good-morrow Through the sweetbriar, or the vine, Or the twisted eglantine: While the cock with lively din Scatters the rear of darkness thin, And to the stack, or the barn-door, Stoutly struts his dames before...

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