Les poètes anglais et les auteurs de L'Edinburg review: satire traduite de l'anglais de Lord ByronA.J. Bounin, 1821 - 127 páginas |
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Página 27
... Il n'est pas d'écrivain plus moral , plus décent . Moins tendre , au mois de Mai , moins molle est la verdure . C'est lui qui ne veut pas qu'avide de lecture , Who warns his friend « to shake off toil and LES POÈTES ANGLAIS . 27.
... Il n'est pas d'écrivain plus moral , plus décent . Moins tendre , au mois de Mai , moins molle est la verdure . C'est lui qui ne veut pas qu'avide de lecture , Who warns his friend « to shake off toil and LES POÈTES ANGLAIS . 27.
Página 34
... all who read may swear That luckless Music never triumph'd there . Moravians rise ! bestow some meet reward On dull Devotion - lo ! the Sabbath Bard , Toi dont nos jeunes Miss , dans une tendre extase 34 ENGLISH BARDS .
... all who read may swear That luckless Music never triumph'd there . Moravians rise ! bestow some meet reward On dull Devotion - lo ! the Sabbath Bard , Toi dont nos jeunes Miss , dans une tendre extase 34 ENGLISH BARDS .
Página 35
... tendre extase , Languissantes d'amour , vantent la pure emphase , Cherche de ton auteur le sens où tu pourras , Mais ne viens plus pour sien nous vendre ton fatras . Crois - tu , par l'oripeau dont tu revêts son style , A nos yeux ...
... tendre extase , Languissantes d'amour , vantent la pure emphase , Cherche de ton auteur le sens où tu pourras , Mais ne viens plus pour sien nous vendre ton fatras . Crois - tu , par l'oripeau dont tu revêts son style , A nos yeux ...
Página 39
... tendre Miss , encore à la lisière , Sent de ses premiers pleurs inonder sa paupière ; Mais ton triomphe est court ; à douze ans révolus , Ce ne sont plus tes vers qui lui plaisent le plus , Et MOORE remplaçant tes naïves peintures ...
... tendre Miss , encore à la lisière , Sent de ses premiers pleurs inonder sa paupière ; Mais ton triomphe est court ; à douze ans révolus , Ce ne sont plus tes vers qui lui plaisent le plus , Et MOORE remplaçant tes naïves peintures ...
Página 47
... tendre , Pleure , ô SHEFFIELD , et nous , ne troublons point sa cendre . Mais pourquoi faudrait - il que l'enfant des neufs soeurs , Abjurant d'Apollon le culte et les faveurs , Se laissât effrayer par les clameurs funèbres De ces ...
... tendre , Pleure , ô SHEFFIELD , et nous , ne troublons point sa cendre . Mais pourquoi faudrait - il que l'enfant des neufs soeurs , Abjurant d'Apollon le culte et les faveurs , Se laissât effrayer par les clameurs funèbres De ces ...
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Términos y frases comunes
Aberdeen Albion AMOS COTTLE Apollon arts auteur Bard best blest boast BOWLES CAMOENS CAPEL LOFFT CARLISLE chants claim COLERIDGE common comte de Carlisle CRABBE Critics critique Dunciad Dunedin E'en écrivaillait ev'ry fame feel first folly fools génie Genius GIFFORD gloire glory goût GRAHAM great Grub-street HAFIZ hail HALLAM hallow'd hope HOYLE inspire JEFFREY John Bull know l'Edinburg Review laisse LAMB last least leave LEWIS Lord Fanny lyre Madoc Marmion mighty mind MOORE Muse name noble o'er once ouvrages Pégase perchance poème poésie Poesy Poet's poète POPE PORTLAND praise Probus prose resign reward rhyme rime rival satire SCOTT scrawl scribbler seek SHEFFIELD SKEFFINGTON skill'd sleep song sonnets sots soul SOUTHEY spare Stott strain STRANGFORD style sublime SYDNEY talent taste Thalaba thine thou throng time Tolbooth turn WALTER SCOTT whist WORDSWORTH world write yield
Pasajes populares
Página 28 - Who, both by precept and example, shows That prose is verse, and verse is merely prose; Convincing all, by demonstration plain, Poetic souls delight in prose insane ; And Christmas stories tortured into rhyme Contain the essence of the true sublime. Thus, when he tells the tale of Betty Foy, The idiot mother of "an idiot boy...
Página 86 - And help'd to plant the wound that laid thee low: So the struck eagle, stretch'd upon the plain, No more through rolling clouds to soar again, View'd his own feather on the fatal dart, And wing'd the shaft that quiver'd in his heart; Keen were his pangs, but keener far to feel, He nursed the pinion which impell'd the steel; While the same plumage that had warm'd his nest . Drank the last life-drop of his bleeding breast.
Página 88 - Tis true, that all who rhyme — nay, all who write, Shrink from that fatal word to Genius — Trite; Yet Truth sometimes will lend her noblest fires, And decorate the verse herself inspires: This fact in Virtue's name let Crabbe attest; Though Nature's sternest Painter, yet the best.
Página 10 - d to find or forge a fault; A turn for punning, call it Attic salt; To Jeffrey go, be silent and discreet, His pay is just ten sterling pounds per sheet...
Página 30 - And each adventure so sublimely tells, That all who view the 'idiot in his glory' Conceive the bard the hero of the story. Shall gentle Coleridge pass unnoticed here, To turgid ode and tumid stanza dear? Though themes of innocence amuse him best, Yet still obscurity's a welcome guest. If Inspiration should her aid refuse To him who takes a pixy for a muse, Yet none in lofty numbers can surpass The bard who soars to elegise an ass.
Página 20 - And think'st thou, Scott, by vain conceit perchance, On public taste to foist thy stale romance, Though Murray with his Miller may combine To yield thy muse just half-a-crown per line ? No ! when the sons of song descend to trade, Their bays are sear, their former laurels fade. Let such forego the poet's sacred name, Who rack their brains for lucre, not for fame.
Página 26 - Next comes the dull disciple of thy school, That mild apostate from poetic rule, The simple Wordsworth, framer of a lay As soft as evening in his favourite May, Who warns his friend 'to shake off toil and trouble, And quit his books, for fear of growing double...
Página 12 - twill pass for wit; Care not for feeling — pass your proper jest, And stand a critic, hated yet caress'd. And shall we own such judgment? no— as soon Seek roses in December— ice in June; Hope constancy in wind, or corn in chaff; Believe a woman or an epitaph, Or any other thing that's false, before You trust in critics, who themselves are sore Or yield one single thought to be misled By Jeffrey's heart, or Lambe's Boeotian head.
Página 86 - And help'd to plant the wound that laid thee low : So the struck eagle, stretch'd upon the plain, No more through rolling clouds to soar again, View'd his own feather on the fatal dart, And wing'd the shaft that quiver'd in his heart; Keen were his pangs, but keener far to feel He nursed the pinion which impell'd the steel ; While the same plumage that had warm'd his nest Drank the last life-drop of his bleeding breast.
Página 22 - Such be their meed, such still the just reward Of prostituted Muse and hireling bard! For this we spurn Apollo's venal son, And bid a long 'good night to Marmion.