Vergil and the English Poets, Volume 24

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Columbia University Press, 1919 - Comparative literature - 251 pages
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Page 226 - Thou that singest wheat and woodland, tilth and vineyard, hive and horse and herd ; All the charm of all the Muses often flowering in a lonely word...
Page 140 - As bees In spring-time, when the Sun with Taurus rides, Pour forth their populous youth about the hive In clusters; they among fresh dews and flowers Fly to and fro, or on the smoothed plank, The suburb of their straw-built citadel, New rubbed with balm, expatiate, and confer Their state affairs: so thick the aery crowd Swarmed and were straitened; till, the signal given, Behold a wonder!
Page 145 - Sad task! yet argument Not less but more heroic than the wrath Of stern Achilles on his foe pursued Thrice fugitive about Troy wall; or rage Of Turnus for Lavinia disespoused; Or Neptune's ire, or Juno's, that so long Perplexed the Greek and Cytherea's son...
Page 56 - Parva metu primo; mox sese attollit in auras, Ingrediturque solo, et caput inter nubila condit.
Page 109 - He touched the tender stops of various quills, With eager thought warbling his Doric lay: And now the sun had stretched out all the hills, And now was dropt into the western bay. At last he rose, and twitched his mantle blue : To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new.
Page 196 - OH for a lodge in some vast wilderness, Some boundless contiguity of shade, Where rumor of oppression and deceit, Of unsuccessful or successful war, Might never reach me more...
Page 199 - On Mincio's banks, in Caesar's bounteous reign, If Tityrus found the Golden Age again, Must sleepy bards the flattering dream prolong, Mechanic echoes of the Mantuan song? From Truth and Nature shall we widely stray, Where Virgil, not where Fancy, leads the way? Yes, thus the Muses sing of happy swains, Because the Muses never knew their pains: They boast their peasants...
Page 110 - Lo! I, the man whose Muse whylome did maske, As time her taught, in lowly Shephards weeds, Am now enforst, a farre unfitter taske, For trumpets sterne to chaunge mine oaten reeds, And sing of knights...
Page 143 - Though rooted deep as high, and sturdiest oaks Bowed their stiff necks, loaden with stormy blasts, Or torn up sheer...
Page 183 - And temper all, thou world-reviving Sun, Into the perfect year ! Nor ye who live In luxury and ease, in pomp and pride, Think these lost themes unworthy of your ear : Such themes as these the rural Maro sung To wide-imperial Rome, in the full height Of elegance and taste, by Greece refined.

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