Nova anthologia Oxoniensis: translations into Greek and Latin verse

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Robinson Ellis, Alfred Denis Godley
Clarendon Press, 1899 - English poetry - 279 pages
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Page 62 - Peace to all such ! but were there one whose fires True genius kindles, and fair fame inspires; Blest with each talent and each art to please, And born to write, converse, and live with ease; Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne...
Page 70 - I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright...
Page 6 - The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks: . The long day wanes : the slow moon climbs : the deep Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Page 138 - There, in his noisy mansion, skill'd to rule, The village master taught his little school; A man severe he was, and stern to view, I knew him well, and every truant knew; Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace The day's disasters in his morning face; Full well they laugh'd with counterfeited glee, \ At all his jokes, for many a joke had he...
Page 174 - But you like none, none you, for constant heart. LIV. O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem By that sweet ornament which truth doth give! The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour which doth in it live. The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye As the perfumed tincture of the roses...
Page 120 - Yet not the more Cease I to wander where the Muses haunt Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill...
Page 68 - Thou hast nor youth, nor age ; But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep, Dreaming on both: for all thy blessed youth Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms Of palsied eld ; and when thou art old, and rich, Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty, To make thy riches pleasant. What 's yet in this, That bears the name of life ? Yet in this life Lie hid more thousand deaths: yet death we fear, That makes these odds all even.
Page 218 - A time there was, ere England's griefs began, When every rood of ground maintained its man ; For him light Labour spread her wholesome store, Just gave what life required, but gave no more: His best companions, innocence and health; And his best riches, ignorance of wealth.
Page 56 - In all my wanderings round this world of care, In all my griefs, — and God has given my share, — I still had hopes, my latest hours to crown, Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down ; To husband out life's taper at the close, And keep the flame from wasting by repose.
Page 66 - Be absolute for death; either death or life Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life: If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing That none but fools would keep: a breath thou art, Servile to all the skyey influences, That do this habitation, where thou keep'st, Hourly afflict.

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