Poetical selections, consisting of the most approved pieces of our best British poets, excellent specimens of fugitive poetry, and some original pieces by Cowper, Darwin, and others |
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共有 41 个结果,这是第 1-5 个
第3页
... tell In Wellesley's heart what passions swell ; What cares must agitate his mind , What wishes , doubts and hopes combin'd , Whom , with his country's chosen bands , Midst cold allies in foreign lands , Outnumb'ring foes surround : From ...
... tell In Wellesley's heart what passions swell ; What cares must agitate his mind , What wishes , doubts and hopes combin'd , Whom , with his country's chosen bands , Midst cold allies in foreign lands , Outnumb'ring foes surround : From ...
第14页
... tell , And chill the heart to hear , When to the very field of fight , Dreadful alike in sound and sight , The conflagration spread ; Involving in its fiery wave , The brave and reliques of the brave- The dying and the dead ! And now ...
... tell , And chill the heart to hear , When to the very field of fight , Dreadful alike in sound and sight , The conflagration spread ; Involving in its fiery wave , The brave and reliques of the brave- The dying and the dead ! And now ...
第24页
... tell , O'twould cleave the womb of night , And awake the dead that fell ! Gash'd with honourable scars , Low in glory's lap they lie ; Though they fell , they fell like stars , Streaming splendour through the sky . Yet shall memory ...
... tell , O'twould cleave the womb of night , And awake the dead that fell ! Gash'd with honourable scars , Low in glory's lap they lie ; Though they fell , they fell like stars , Streaming splendour through the sky . Yet shall memory ...
第26页
... Tell me , what is fame ? A glittering bubble , borne upon the flood ! Shall man , to gain a transitory name , Sully the green turf with a brother's blood ! Who wars but for a name , no better cause Conjoin'd , is driven by destructive ...
... Tell me , what is fame ? A glittering bubble , borne upon the flood ! Shall man , to gain a transitory name , Sully the green turf with a brother's blood ! Who wars but for a name , no better cause Conjoin'd , is driven by destructive ...
第28页
... tell , - That in the foremost strife of swords , The young , the gallant Edgar fell . She prest to hear , she caught the tale- At every sound her blood congeal'd ; With terror bold , with terror pale , She sprung to search the fatal ...
... tell , - That in the foremost strife of swords , The young , the gallant Edgar fell . She prest to hear , she caught the tale- At every sound her blood congeal'd ; With terror bold , with terror pale , She sprung to search the fatal ...
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常见术语和短语
ANN RADCLIFFE BATTLES OF TALAVERA beam behold beneath black crows blast blest bliss bloom Bolus bosom breast breath breeze bright brow charms cheerful clouds cold Colma coursers cried dæmon dark dead death deep dread drear drest E'en Erin go bragh ev'ry fade fair fame fancy fate fear fire flowers gale gloom grave green GRONGAR HILL Haman hear heart heaven hill hope hour Lady light lonely lord of war lov'd lyre maid mark'd moon morning mountain mourn muse night numbers o'er pale peace pensive PINDAR plain pow'r pride repose rill rise rose round scene seem'd shade shore sigh silent sleep smil'd smile soft song soothing soul sound spectre spring storm stream sweet tear tempest thee thine thou thro tomb trembling Twas Twizzle vale voice wave weep wild wind wood Zounds
热门引用章节
第18页 - Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulphurous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave...
第19页 - Like leviathans afloat Lay their bulwarks on the brine; While the sign of battle flew On the lofty British line: It was ten of April morn by the chime: As they drifted on their path There was silence deep as death; And the boldest held his breath For a time. But the might of England flush'd To anticipate the scene; And her van the fleeter rush'd O'er the deadly space between. "Hearts of oak!
第169页 - Await alike th' inevitable hour : — The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Can storied urn, or animated bust, Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or Flatt'ry soothe the dull cold ear of Death...
第118页 - I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father.' The boat has left a stormy land, A stormy sea before her, — When, oh ! too strong for human hand The tempest gather'd o'er her.
第20页 - Again ! again ! again ! And the havoc did not slack, Till a feeble cheer the Dane To our cheering sent us back; — Their shots along the deep slowly boom: Then ceased — and all is wail, As they strike the shattered sail, Or in conflagration pale Light the gloom.
第16页 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave...
第221页 - He threw his blood-stain'd sword, in thunder, down ; And, with a withering look, The war-denouncing trumpet took, And blew a blast so loud and dread, Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe...
第52页 - Now sinks at last, or feebly mans the soul; While low delights, succeeding fast behind, In happier meanness occupy the mind : As in those domes, where Caesars once bore sway, Defaced by time and tottering in decay, There in the ruin, heedless of the dead, The shelter-seeking peasant builds his shed ; And, wondering man could want the larger pile, Exults, and owns his cottage with a smile.
第48页 - Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see, My heart, untravell'd, fondly turns to thee : Still to my brother turns, with ceaseless pain, And drags at each remove a lengthening chain.
第219页 - Adieu !" At length, his transient respite past. His comrades, who before Had heard his voice in every blast, Could catch the sound no more ; For then, by toil subdued, he drank The stifling wave, and then he sank. No poet wept him : but the page Of narrative sincere, That tells his name, his worth, his age. Is wet with Anson's tear i And tears by bards or heroes shed, Alike immortalize the dead.