The Odysseys of Homer: Translated According to the Greek, Volume 1

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J. M. Dent, 1897

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Página 236 - Come here, thou, worthy of a world of praise, That dost so high the Grecian glory raise ; Ulysses ! stay thy ship ; and that song hear That none...
Página 249 - This preservation photocopy was made and hand bound at BookLab, Inc., in compliance with copyright law. The paper is Weyerhaeuser Cougar Opaque Natural, which exceeds ANSI Standard Z39.48-1984.
Página 91 - Hermes' ravish'd powers employ'd. But having all admir'd, he enter'd on The ample cave, nor could be seen unknown Of great Calypso (for all Deities are Prompt in each other's knowledge, though so far Sever'd in dwellings) but he could not see Ulysses there within ; without was he Set sad ashore, where 'twas his use to view Th' unquiet sea, sigh'd, wept, and empty drew His heart of comfort.
Página 202 - The first that press'd in was Elpenor's soul, His body in the broad-way'd earth as yet Unmourn'd, unburied by us, since we swet With other urgent labours. Yet his smart I wept to see, and rued it from my heart, Enquiring how he could before me be That came by ship? He, mourning, answer'd me: "In Circe's house, the spite some spirit did bear, And the unspeakable good liquor there...
Página 125 - Ripe fruits, these blossoms. Pear grew after pear, Apple succeeded apple, grape the grape, Fig after fig came ; time made never rape Of any dainty there. A spritely vine Spread here his root, whose fruit a hot sunshine Made ripe betimes ; here grew another green. Here some were gathering, here some pressing, seen. A large-allotted several each fruit had ; And all th...
Página 110 - About Apollo's fane, and that put on A grace like thee ; for Earth had never none Of all her sylvan issue so adorn'd. Into amaze my very soul was turn'd, To give it observation ; as now thee To view, O virgin, a stupidity Past admiration strikes me, join'd with fear To do a suppliant's due, and press so near, As to embrace thy knees.
Página 91 - That breathed an odour round about the isle. Herself was seated in an inner room, Whom sweetly sing he heard, and at her loom, About a curious web, whose yarn she threw In with a golden shittle.

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