Faringdon Hill. Book I (Henry James Pye Poems)
A Poem In Two BooksNow with meridian force the orb of dayPours on our throbbing heads his sultry ray;O'er the ...
A Poem In Two BooksNow with meridian force the orb of dayPours on our throbbing heads his sultry ray;O'er the ...
Apollo's wrath to man the dreadful springOf ills innum'rous, tuneful goddess, sing!Thou who did'st first th' ideal pencil give,And taught'st ...
Hah! how the laurel, great Apollo's tree,And all the cavern shakes! Far off, far off,The man that is unhallow'd: for ...
Daphnis beneath a rustling ilex-treeHad sat him down; Thyrsis and CorydonHad gathered in the flock, Thyrsis the sheep,And Corydon the ...
MELIBOEUS, CORYDON, THYRSISDaphnis beneath a rustling ilex-treeHad sat him down; Thyrsis and CorydonHad gathered in the flock, Thyrsis the sheep,And ...
A Prize PoemThe star of Bethlehem rose, and truth and lightBurst on the nations that reposed in night,And chased the ...
BUT few the Delian god inspiresWith genuine true poetic fires;But few who bear the poet's name,Shall share the lasting wreath ...
The time will come when I no more can playThis polished flute: the stops will not obeyMy gnarled fingers; and ...
Chief of organic Numbers!Old Scholar of the Spheres!Thy spirit never slumbers,But rolls about our earsFor ever and for ever.O, what ...
In serious jest, and jesting seriousness, I strive to scourge polluting beastliness; I invocate no Delian deity, No sacred offspring of Mnemosyne; I pray ...
Sing to Apollo, god of day,Whose golden beams with morning playAnd make her eyes so brightly shine,Aurora's face is called ...
THE Delian diver wrecked her life to grasp A pearl she saw by Visionary gleams,And died with empty hand that could ...
_THE ENGLISH RENAISSANCE_1491 As she who in some village-child unknown, With rustic grace and fantasy bedeck'd And in her simple ...
She said, and for her lost Calanthis sighs,When the fair Consort of her son replies."Since you a servant's ravish'd form ...
Hear the choir of boy and maid,Mighty child of mightiest Jove,Thou whom royal mother laidIn the Delian olive grove— That ...
Apollo's wrath to man the dreadful spring Of ills innum'rous, tuneful goddess, sing! Thou who did'st first th' ideal pencil ...
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