ما يقوله الناس - كتابة مراجعة
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الصفحة 113 - For they that led us away captive, required of us then a song, and melody in our heaviness : Sing us one of the songs of Sion. 4 How shall we sing the LORD'S song in a strange land?
الصفحة 10 - Statesman, yet friend to truth ! of soul sincere. In action faithful, and in honour clear ! Who broke no promise, serv'd no private end, Who gain'd no title, and who lost no friend ; Ennobled by himself, by all approv'd, Prais'd, wept, and honour'd by the Muse he lov'd.
الصفحة 84 - The righteous laws, and fraud and force restrain. Janus himself before his fane shall wait, And keep the dreadful issues of his gate, With bolts and iron bars: within remains Imprison'd Fury, bound in brazen chains; High on a trophy rais'd, of useless arms, He sits, and threats the world with vain alarms.
الصفحة 9 - SEE the wild waste of all-devouring years! How Rome her own sad sepulchre appears ! With nodding arches, broken temples spread, The very tombs now vanish'd like their dead!
الصفحة 9 - Convinc'd, she now contracts her vast design, And all her Triumphs shrink into a Coin.
الصفحة 285 - In joyous songs; the rocks resound her lays: In spinning, or the loom, she spends the night, And cedar brands supply her father's light. From hence were heard, rebellowing to the main, The roars of lions that refuse the chain, The grunts of bristled boars, and groans of bears, And herds of howling wolves that stun the sailors
الصفحة 229 - It was indeed the most proper place in the world for a fury to make her exit, after she had filled a nation with distractions and alarms ; and I believe every reader's imagination is pleased, when he sees the angry goddess thus sinking, as it were, in a tempest, and plunging herself into hell, amidst such a scene of horror and confusion.
الصفحة 87 - Which with the spoils of his dead foe he grac'd. The coat of arms by proud Mezentius worn, Now on a naked snag in triumph borne, Was hung on high, and glitter'd from afar, A trophy sacred to the God of War. Above his arms, fix'd on the leafless wood, Appear'd his plumy crest, besmear'd with blood...
الصفحة 248 - Within a long recess there lies a bay : An island shades it from the rolling sea, And forms a port secure for ships to ride : Broke by the jutting land on either side, In double streams the briny waters glide, Betwixt two rows of rocks : a sylvan scene Appears above, and groves for ever green : A grot is form'd beneath, with mossy seats, To rest the Nereids, and exclude the heats.