The works of Virgil, closely rendered into Engl. rhythm and illustr. from British poets by R.C. Singleton, Volume 1 |
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Page 30
... mother with a smile ; 80 Ten months have brought thy mother longsome qualms . Begin , O infant boy : [ that babe ] on whom His parents have not smiled , nor god of board , Nor goddess hath deemed worthy of her bed . Line 69. So Eve ...
... mother with a smile ; 80 Ten months have brought thy mother longsome qualms . Begin , O infant boy : [ that babe ] on whom His parents have not smiled , nor god of board , Nor goddess hath deemed worthy of her bed . Line 69. So Eve ...
Page 33
... mother felon calls . Line 25. See Milton's Lycidas : " But oh ! the heavy change , now thou art gone , Now thou art gone , and never must return ! Thee , shepherd , thee the woods and desert caves , With wild thyme and the gadding vine ...
... mother felon calls . Line 25. See Milton's Lycidas : " But oh ! the heavy change , now thou art gone , Now thou art gone , and never must return ! Thee , shepherd , thee the woods and desert caves , With wild thyme and the gadding vine ...
Page 44
... mother did unveil Her awful face : the dauntless child Stretch'd forth his little arms and smil'd : ' This pencil take , ' she said , ' whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year . Thine , too , these golden keys , immortal Boy ...
... mother did unveil Her awful face : the dauntless child Stretch'd forth his little arms and smil'd : ' This pencil take , ' she said , ' whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year . Thine , too , these golden keys , immortal Boy ...
Page 53
... mother saw The dewy apples culling . Then the year Next from th ' eleventh had admitted me ; I just was able from the ground to reach The brittle branches . When I looked , how I was lost ! How fell distraction carried me away ! Begin ...
... mother saw The dewy apples culling . Then the year Next from th ' eleventh had admitted me ; I just was able from the ground to reach The brittle branches . When I looked , how I was lost ! How fell distraction carried me away ! Begin ...
Page 54
... mother , thou wert also barbarous ! More barbarous was the mother , or that boy More impious ? More impious that boy ; - O mother , thou wert also barbarous ! Begin with me , my pipe , Mænalian strains . Let now e'en wolf unbidden fly ...
... mother , thou wert also barbarous ! More barbarous was the mother , or that boy More impious ? More impious that boy ; - O mother , thou wert also barbarous ! Begin with me , my pipe , Mænalian strains . Let now e'en wolf unbidden fly ...
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The Works of Virgil, Closely Rendered Into Engl. Rhythm and Illustr. from ... Publius Vergilius Maro No preview available - 2016 |
Common terms and phrases
Æneas Æneid altars amid Amyntas Anchises Annus Mirabilis Arethuse arms Ascanius Bacchus bear bees behold beneath billows blood breath Cæsar Ceres clouds Corydon Creusa Daphnis death deep Dido dost doth dread Dryden e'en earth Eclogue eyes Faerie Queene fane fates fear fields fire flames flock flood forests gales Georgic goddess gods gold Greeks groan grove hand hath heaven Helenus hence Iulus Jove king land light Line lofty Lycidas MENALCAS mighty Milton mind MOPSUS mountains Mycena neath night o'er Paradise Lost plain poet Priam prose race rage realm render rocks round scarce seems shade Shakspeare shalt shores sing sire sleep sooth soul Spenser spring stars steeds storm stream swains sweet tears Teucrians thee thou tilths Tityrus toil translation trees Trojan Troy Tyrians unto verses vine Virgil waves wight wild winds wings woods words wretched youth
Popular passages
Page 355 - The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold; Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were love-sick with them; the oars were silver, Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water which "they beat to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes.
Page 180 - How many thousand of my poorest subjects Are at this hour asleep ! — O Sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness ? Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber ; Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great...
Page 55 - Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimm'd The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds, And 'twixt the green sea and the azured vault Set roaring war...
Page vi - I had rather be a kitten, and cry mew, Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers ; I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn'd, Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree ; And that would set my teeth nothing on edge, Nothing so much as mincing poetry ; — 'Tis like the forc'd gait of a shuffling nag.
Page 311 - Thus much of this, will make Black, white; foul, fair; wrong, right; Base, noble; old, young; coward, valiant. Ha, you gods ! why this ? What this, you gods ? Why this Will lug your priests and servants from your sides ; Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads: This yellow slave Will knit and break religions; bless the accurs'd; Make the hoar leprosy ador'd ; place thieves, And give them title, knee, and approbation, With senators on the bench...
Page 194 - Where some, like magistrates, correct at home, Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the...
Page 351 - To-day, my lord of Amiens and myself Did steal behind him, as he lay along Under an oak whose antique root peeps out Upon the brook that brawls along this wood : To the which place a poor sequester'd stag, That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt...
Page 120 - This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war, This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands, This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England...
Page 101 - The night has been unruly : where we lay, Our chimneys were blown down ; and, as they say, Lamentings heard i...
Page 232 - To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in Heaven. As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.