Bell's Classical Arrangement of Fugitive Poetry ...J. Bell, 1789 |
Expressions et termes fréquents
anguish awful beam beauteous beauty blest bliss bloom boast bosom bower breast breath bright brow charms chear clos'd cloud cry'd dart dear death dread dreary Dryad e'er ELEGY ev'ry eyes fair fame Fancy fate faultering flame fled flower fond fondly frown gloom glories glow grac'd grace grief grove hand haste heart Heaven hour House of Guise immortal JAMES BEATTIE life's lov'd lyre Mary's Mary's tomb MONODY mourn MUSAEUS Muse Nature's ne'er o'er pale peace pity plain pow'r praise Queen rage rapture resign'd round ruins sacred scene seraphic shade shed sighs silence skies smiles soft solemn song sooth sorrows soul sprightly strain stream Suadela swain sweet tear thee thine thou thought thro throne toil tomb trembling vale virgin train Virtue Virtue's waves ween weeping WESTMINSTER ABBEY WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE WILLIAM MASON wind wing youth
Fréquemment cités
Page 65 - Pity the sorrows of a poor old man ! Whose trembling limbs have borne him to your door, Whose days are dwindled to the shortest span; Oh! give relief, and Heaven will bless your store.
Page 145 - And clothed with orient hues, transcends the day ! Passion's wild break, and frown that awes the sense, And every charm of gentler eloquence, All perishable ! like th' electric fire, But strike the frame, and as they strike expire ; Incense too pure, a bodied flame to bear, Its fragrance charms the sense and blends with air.
Page 128 - Is hung on high, to poison half mankind. All fame is foreign but of true desert, Plays round the head, but comes not to the heart...
Page 48 - How bright, emerging o'er yon broom-dad height, The silver empress of the night appears! Yon limpid pool reflects a stream of light. And faintly in its breast the woodland bears. The waters, tumbling o'er their rocky bed, Solemn and constant from yon dell resound ; The lonely hearths blaze o'er the distant glade; The bat, low-wheeling, skims the dusky ground. August and hoary, o'er the sloping dale, The Gothic abbey rears its sculptur'd tow'rs ; Dull thro' the roofs resounds the whistling gale, Dark...
Page 66 - Yon house, erected on the rising ground, With tempting aspect drew me from my road, For plenty there a residence has found, And grandeur a magnificent abode. (Hard is the fate of the...
Page 146 - Muse, hang o'er his sculptured bier, With patient woe, that loves the lingering tear; With thoughts that mourn — nor yet desire relief; With meek regret, and fond enduring grief; With looks that speak — He never shall return! Chilling thy tender bosom, clasp his urn; And with soft sighs disperse th' irreverend dust Which Time may strew upon his sacred bust.
Page 96 - Chas'd by a charm still lovelier than the last. That bell again ! It tells us what she is : On what she was no more the strain prolong : Luxuriant Fancy pause : an hour like this Demands the tribute of a serious song. MARIA claims it from that sable bier, Where cold and wan the slumberer rests her head ; In still small whispers to Reflection's ear, She breathes the solemn dictates of the dead.
Page 98 - I praise you, triflers as ye are, More than those preachers of your fav'rite creed, Who proudly swell the brazen throat of War, Who form the phalanx, bid the battle bleed : Nor wish for more : who conquer, but to die.
Page 27 - Now sunk, deserted, and with weeds o'ergrown, Yon prostrate walls their harder fate bewail ; Low on the ground their topmost spires are thrown, Once friendly marks to guide the wandering sail. " The ivy now, with rude luxuriance,, bends Its tangled foliage through the clustered space, O'er the green window's mouldering height ascends, And fondly clasps it with a last embrace.
Page 144 - Wide as th' inspiring Phoebus darts his ray, Diffusive splendour gilds his votary's lay. Whether the song heroic woes rehearse, With epic grandeur, and the pomp of verse ; Or, fondly gay, with unambitious guile, Attempt no prize but favouring beauty's smile ; Or bear dejected to the lonely grove The soft despair of unprevailing love — Whate'er the theme, through every age and clime Congenial passions meet th' according rhyme ; The pride of glory — pity's sigh sincere — Youth's earliest blush,...