Frederick Brigham De Berard
Bodleian Society, 1905


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13 ページ - This way, and that, th' impatient captives tend, And pressing for release, the mountains rend. High in his hall, th' undaunted monarch stands, And shakes his sceptre, and their rage commands: Which did he not, their unresisted sway Would sweep the world before them in their way: Earth, air and seas through empty space would roll, And heav'n would fly before the driving soul.
11 ページ - His banish'd gods restor'd to rites divine, And settled sure succession in his line, From whence the race of Alban fathers come, And the long glories of majestic Rome.
106 ページ - Let others better mould the running mass Of metals, and inform the breathing brass, And soften into flesh, a marble face ; Plead better at the bar ; describe the skies, And when the stars descend, and when they rise.
227 ページ - As hopes and fears their panting hearts divide. But all in pieces flies the traitor sword, And, in the middle stroke, deserts his lord. Now 'tis but death or flight: disarm'd he flies, When in his hand an unknown hilt he spies.
44 ページ - Whom did I not, of gods or men, accuse ? This was the fatal blow, that pain'd me more Than all I felt from ruin'd Troy before. Stung with my loss, and raving with despair, Abandoning my now forgotten care, Of counsel, comfort, and of hope, bereft, My sire, my son, my country gods, I left.
139 ページ - Renown'd on earth, esteem'd among the gods. This is my certain seat. In times to come, My waves shall wash the walls of mighty Rome.
16 ページ - Meantime imperial Neptune heard the sound Of raging billows breaking on the ground. Displeased, and fearing for his...
58 ページ - Ev'n when thy fleet is landed on the shore, And priests with holy vows the gods adore, Then with a purple veil involve your eyes, Lest hostile faces blast the sacrifice.
21 ページ - My son, my strength, whose mighty power alone Controls the Thunderer on his awful throne ! To thee thy much-afflicted mother flies, And on thy succour and thy faith relies.
74 ページ - An exile from his son's embrace, So let him sue for aid, and see His people slain before his face ; Nor, when to humbling peace at length He stoops, be his or life or land, But let him fall in manhood's strength And welter tombless on the sand. Such malison to heaven I pour, A last libation with my gore. And, Tyrians, you through time to come His seed with deathless hatred chase : Be that your gift to Dido's tomb : No love, no league 'twixt race and race. Rise from my ashes, scourge of crime, Born...