Aristophanous Ornithes (Romanized form)

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G. Bell, 1906 - 305 pages

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Page 100 - Twas thine own genius gave the final blow, And helped to plant the wound that laid thee low : So the struck eagle, stretched upon the plain, No more through rolling clouds to soar again, Viewed his own feather on the fatal dart, And winged the shaft that quivered in his heart ; Keen were his pangs, but keener far to feel He nursed the pinion which impelled the steel ; While the same plumage that had warmed his nest Drank the last life-drop of his bleeding breast.
Page xxxvi - gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long...
Page 67 - Curse not the king, no not in thy thought; and curse not the rich in thy bedchamber: for a bird of the air shall carry the voice, and that which hath wings shall tell the matter.
Page 17 - Awake, my mate! Shake off thy slumbers, and clear and strong Let loose the floods of thy glorious song, The sacred dirge of thy mouth divine For sore-wept Itys, thy child and mine; Thy tender trillings his name prolong With the liquid note of thy tawny throat; Through the leafy curls of the woodbine sweet The pure sound mounts to the heavenly seat, And Phoebus, lord of the golden hair, As he lists to thy wild plaint echoing there, Draws answering strains from his ivoried lyre, Till he stirs the dance...
Page 81 - THERE WAS Chaos at first, and Darkness, and Night, and Tartarus vasty and dismal " ; But the Earth was not there, nor the Sky, nor the Air, till at length in the bosom abysmal Of Darkness an egg, from the whirlwind conceived, was laid by the sable-plumed Night. And out of that egg, as the Seasons revolved, sprang Love, the entrancing, the...
Page 97 - Tio, tio, tio, tio, tiotinx." Truly to be clad in feather is the very best of things. Only fancy, dear spectators, had you each a brace of wings, Never need you, tired and hungry, at a Tragic Chorus stay, You would lightly, when it bored you, spread your wings and fly away, Back returning, after luncheon, to enjoy our Comic Play. Never need a Patrocleides...
Page 79 - Frail castings in clay, who are gone in a day, like a dream full of sorrow and sighing, Come Listen with care to the Birds of the air, the ageless, the deathless, who flying In the joy and the freshness of Ether, are wont to muse upon wisdom undying.
Page 87 - And whene'er you of omen or augury speak, 'tis a bird you are always repeating ; A Rumour's a bird, and a sneeze is a bird, and so is a word or a meeting,* A servant's a bird, and an ass is a bird. It must therefore assuredly follow That the Birds are to you (I protest it is true) your prophetic divining Apollo. Then take us for Gods, as is proper and fit, And Muses Prophetic ye'll have at your call Spring, winter, and summer, and autumn and all.
Page 89 - Spring, winter, and summer, and autumn and all. And we won't run away from your worship, and sit Up above in the clouds, very stately and grand, Like Zeus in his tempers: but always at hand Health and wealth we'll bestow, as the formula runs, ON YOURSELVES, AND YOUR SONS, AND THE SONS OF YOUR SONS; And happiness, plenty, and peace shall belong To you all; and the revel, the dance, and the song, And laughter, and youth, and the milk of the birds We'll supply, and we'll never forsake you. Ye'll be...
Page 145 - Canny pelicans, Excellent workmen, hewing with huge beaks Gate-timber; and the uproar as they hewed Was like an arsenal when ships are building. Now every gateway has its gate, fast-barred, And watched the whole way round; and birds are pacing Their beats, and carrying bells, and. everywhere The guards are stationed, and the beacons blaze On every tower. But I must hurry off And wash myself. You, manage what remains.

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