Transactions of the American Philological Association, Volumes 15-16Ginn & Company, 1885 |
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Transactions of the American Philological Association, Volumes 3-4 American Philological Association Visualização completa - 1873 |
Transactions of the American Philological Association, Volumes 5-6 American Philological Association Visualização completa - 1875 |
Transactions of the American Philological Association, Volume 22 American Philological Association Visualização completa - 1891 |
Termos e frases comuns
ablatival ablaut accent Adelbert College adjectives Aeschines alliteration Amplon Anglo-Norman Athens Caesar caesura Cambridge Cange Conn consonants Crastinus Dartmouth College deriv Dial dialects dicitur Dinarchus diphthong Du Cange English evocati examples feminine caesura French genitive genus German gloss glossaries grammatical Greek Harvard Haven Hild Isid Lafayette College language Latin Lexx Library Loewe G. N. Mass MOD.E Nonius noun occurs Odysseus original passage Paul Paulus perhaps Phil philology phonetic Plac poet probably Prod Professor pronounced pronunciation Prytanes quae quod roots Sanskrit Servius sine Sophokles sound spelling suffix sunt syllables tion trochee University verbs Verg verse vowel W. D. Whitney Whitney words Yale College δὲ ἐν καὶ μὲν οἱ οὐκ τὴν τῆς τὸ τὸν τοῦ τοὺς τῶν
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 79 - I CHATTER over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles, I bubble into eddying bays, I babble on the pebbles. With many a curve my banks I fret By many a field and fallow, And many a fairy foreland set With willow-weed and mallow.
Página 85 - When the hounds of spring are on winter's traces, The mother of months in meadow or plain Fills the shadows and windy places With lisp of leaves and ripple of rain ; And the brown bright nightingale amorous Is half assuaged for Itylus, For the Thracian ships and the foreign faces, The tongueless vigil, and all the pain.
Página 86 - Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why This charm is wasted on the earth and sky, Tell them, dear, that if eyes were made for seeing, Then Beauty is its own excuse for being: Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose! I never thought to ask, I never knew: But, in my simple ignorance, suppose The self-same power that brought me there brought you.
Página 81 - SWEET and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea ! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me ; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon ; Rest, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon ; Father will come to his babe in the nest, Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon : Sleep, my little one, sleep,...
Página 82 - Saturn, quiet as a stone, Still as the silence round about his lair ; Forest on forest hung about his head Like cloud on cloud. No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass, But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.
Página 87 - THE OLD FAMILIAR FACES. I have had playmates, I have had companions, In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days ; All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. I have been laughing, I have been carousing, Drinking late, sitting late, with my bosom cronies ; All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
Página xi - Multaque per moestum demens effata furorem, Purpureos moritura manu discindit amictus, Et nodum informis leti trabe nectit ab alta.
Página 54 - IV. 3 illic hinc abiit, mihi rem summam credidit cibariam. di immortales, iam ut ego collos praetruncabo tegoribus, quanta pernis pestis veniet, quanta labes larido, quanta sumini absumedo, quanta callo calamitas, quanta laniis lassitudo, quanta porcinariis.
Página 79 - I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally, And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges.
Página 90 - OH ! wherefore come ye forth, in triumph from the North, With your hands, and your feet, and your raiment all red ? And wherefore doth your rout send forth a joyous shout ? And whence be the grapes of the wine-press which ye tread? Oh evil was the root, and bitter was the fruit, And crimson was the juice of the vintage that we trod ; For we trampled on the throng of the haughty and the strong, "Who sate in the high places, and slew the saints of God. It was about the noon of a glorious day of June...