The Tragedies of Sophocles: Literally Translated Into English Prose, with Notes

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W. Jackson, 1837 - 307 páginas

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Página 169 - In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed; In war, he mounts the warrior's steed; In halls, in gay attire is seen; In hamlets, dances on the green. Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below, and saints above ; For love is heaven, and heaven is love.
Página 44 - 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...
Página 245 - Of every hearer ; for it so falls out » That what we have we prize not to the worth Whiles we enjoy it, but being lack'd and lost, Why, then we rack the value, then we find The virtue that possession would not show us Whiles it was ours.
Página 292 - This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are sick in fortune, — often the surfeit of our own behaviour, — we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars...
Página 237 - The heavens themselves, the planets, and this centre, Observe degree, priority, and place, Insisture, course, proportion, season, form, Office, and custom, in all line of order...
Página 275 - Awed by no shame, by no respect controll'd, In scandal busy, in reproaches bold: With witty malice studious to defame, Scorn all his joy, and laughter all his aim:— But chief he gloried with licentious style To lash the great, and monarchs to revile. His figure such as might his soul proclaim; One eye was blinking, and one leg was lame: His mountain shoulders half his breast o'erspread, Thin hairs bestrew'd his long misshapen head.
Página 250 - What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted ! Thrice is he arm'd that hath his quarrel just ; And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel, Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.
Página 169 - And it came to pass at the end of two months, that she returned unto her father, who did with her according to his vow which he had vowed: and she knew no man. And it was a custom in Israel, that the daughters of Israel went yearly to lament the daughter of Jephthah the Gileadite four days in a year.
Página 134 - Merciful heaven! What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows; Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak Whispers the o'erfraught heart, and bids it break.
Página 67 - Thou hast come, O stranger, to the seats of this land, renowned for the steed ; to seats the fairest on earth, the chalky Colonus ; where the vocal nightingale, chief abounding, trills her plaintive note in the green vales...

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