طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
الصفحة 242 - His spear, to equal which the tallest pine Hewn on Norwegian hills to be the mast Of some great ammiral, were but a wand.
الصفحة 207 - 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 rubb'd with balm, expatiate, and confer Their state affairs...
الصفحة 224 - For as soon as the wind goeth over it, it is gone, and the place thereof shall know it no more.
الصفحة 274 - Was tyrannous and strong: He struck with his o'ertaking wings, And chased us south along. With sloping masts and dipping prow, As who pursued with yell and blow Still treads the shadow of his foe, And forward bends his head, The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, And southward aye we fled...
الصفحة 22 - As when a vulture on Imaus bred, Whose snowy ridge the roving Tartar bounds, Dislodging from a region scarce of prey To gorge the flesh of lambs or yeanling kids On hills where flocks are fed, flies toward the springs Of Ganges or Hydaspes, Indian streams; But in his way lights on the barren plains Of Sericana, where Chineses drive With sails and wind their cany waggons light...
الصفحة 7 - Behold, I will make thee a new sharp threshing instrument having teeth: Thou shalt thresh the mountains, and beat them small, And shalt make the hills as chaff. Thou shalt fan them, and the wind shall carry them away, And the whirlwind shall scatter them: And thou shalt rejoice in the Lord, And shalt glory in the Holy One of Israel.
الصفحة 219 - On the other side, Incensed with indignation, Satan stood Unterrified, and like a comet burn'd, That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge In the Arctic sky, and from his horrid hair Shakes pestilence and war.
الصفحة 208 - While thus he spake, the angelic squadron bright Turn'd fiery red, sharpening in mooned horns Their phalanx, and began to hem him round With ported spears, as thick as when a field Of Ceres, ripe for harvest, waving bends Her bearded grove of ears, which way the wind Sways them ; the careful ploughman doubting stands, Lest on the threshing-floor his hopeful sheaves Prove chaff.
الصفحة 267 - I have trodden the wine-press alone, and of the people there was none with me : for I will tread them in mine anger, and trample them in my fury, and their blood shall be sprinkled upon my garments, and I will stain all my raiment.