Foliorum silvula, selections for translation into Latin and Greek verse, by H.A. Holden, Volume 1Hubert Ashton Holden 1864 |
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Page 4
... WEEP not for the gathered rose ! O mourn not for the friend that dies ! In beauty's breast the flower blows- the soul is happy in the skies . Weep not for these ! but weep for them , the unloved , the friendless , the unknown- the ...
... WEEP not for the gathered rose ! O mourn not for the friend that dies ! In beauty's breast the flower blows- the soul is happy in the skies . Weep not for these ! but weep for them , the unloved , the friendless , the unknown- the ...
Page 15
... weep , whether they do wake or sleep , whether they feel heat or cold , whether they be young or old ; there is underneath the sun nothing in true earnest done . All our pride is but a jest , none are into Latin Lyric Verse 15.
... weep , whether they do wake or sleep , whether they feel heat or cold , whether they be young or old ; there is underneath the sun nothing in true earnest done . All our pride is but a jest , none are into Latin Lyric Verse 15.
Page 17
... weep my woes , there seek my lost repose , till grief my eyes should close , ne'er to wake more . Falsest of womankind , canst thou declare all thy fond - plighted vows - fleeting as air ? to thy new lover hie , laugh o'er thy perjury ...
... weep my woes , there seek my lost repose , till grief my eyes should close , ne'er to wake more . Falsest of womankind , canst thou declare all thy fond - plighted vows - fleeting as air ? to thy new lover hie , laugh o'er thy perjury ...
Page 23
... weeping skies , on the tall poplar - tree , perch'd swayingly , thyself dost still amuse , and the hush'd grove , with thy sweet minstrelsy- after long tedious winters , when the sun through the brief summer speeds his whirling ray ...
... weeping skies , on the tall poplar - tree , perch'd swayingly , thyself dost still amuse , and the hush'd grove , with thy sweet minstrelsy- after long tedious winters , when the sun through the brief summer speeds his whirling ray ...
Page 26
... weeping dews , which nightly fall , are but the tears shed for thy funeral . H. KING 77 THE BLESSING OF SYMPATHY THE low sweet tones of Nature's lyre no more on listless ears expire , nor vainly smiles along the shady way the primrose ...
... weeping dews , which nightly fall , are but the tears shed for thy funeral . H. KING 77 THE BLESSING OF SYMPATHY THE low sweet tones of Nature's lyre no more on listless ears expire , nor vainly smiles along the shady way the primrose ...
Common terms and phrases
beauty beneath birds blest bloom breast breath bright brow calm clouds College COMEDY OF ERRORS Conic Sections crown dead death deep delight didst dost doth dream earth eyes fair fate fear flowers gentle glory golden grove happy hast hath hear heart heaven honour hour J. R. SEELEY J. W. DONALDSON life's light live Lord LORD BYRON lyre mourn ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er P. B. SHELLEY peace Pembroke College pleasure roses round shade shine shore sigh sing skies sleep smile soft song SOPHOCLES sorrow soul sound spirit spring St John's College stars storm stream summer sweet tears thee thine Third Edition thou art Trinity College unto vale voice waves weep whilst wild winds wings WORDSWORTH youth γὰρ δὲ ἐν ἐπὶ ἐς καὶ μὲν οὐ τὰ τε τὸ τὸν
Popular passages
Page 172 - The oracles are dumb; No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving: Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving: No nightly trance or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
Page 248 - Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is : What if my leaves are falling like its own ! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, spirit fierce, My spirit ! Be thou me, impetuous one ! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth...
Page 248 - WILD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou, Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill (Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air) With...
Page 216 - Now strike the golden lyre again : A louder yet, and yet a louder strain ! Break his bands of sleep asunder And rouse him like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark, hark ! the horrid sound Has raised up his head : As awaked from the dead And amazed he stares around. Revenge, revenge...
Page 9 - It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make Man better be ; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere : A lily of a day Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night — It was the plant and flower of Light. In small proportions we just beauties see ; And in short measures life may perfect be.
Page 171 - No war, or battle's sound, Was heard the world around : The idle spear and shield were high up hung ; The hooked chariot stood Unstained with hostile blood ; The trumpet spake not to the armed throng ; And kings sat still with awful eye, As if they surely knew their sovereign Lord was by.
Page 267 - He who hath bent him o'er the dead Ere the first day of death is fled, The first dark day of nothingness, The last of danger and distress...
Page 145 - I'll never love thee more. As Alexander I will reign, And I will reign alone ; My thoughts did evermore disdain A rival on my throne. He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who dares not put it to the touch To gain or lose it all.
Page 46 - Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men. Oh! raise us up, return to us again; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.