A collection of poems, by several hands [ed. by R. Dodsley].1758 |
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64 ページ
... fecret transports in her bosom swell : With confcious awe fhe hears the critic's fame , And blufhing hides her wreath at Shakespear's name . Hard Hard was the lot those injur'd strains endur'd , Unown'd [ 64 ] A N ...
... fecret transports in her bosom swell : With confcious awe fhe hears the critic's fame , And blufhing hides her wreath at Shakespear's name . Hard Hard was the lot those injur'd strains endur'd , Unown'd [ 64 ] A N ...
67 ページ
... wreaths lefs artful crown our poet's head . Yet He alone to ev'ry scene could give Th ' hiftorian's truth , and bid the manners live . Wak'd at his call I view , with glad furprize , Majestic forms of mighty monarchs rife . Their ...
... wreaths lefs artful crown our poet's head . Yet He alone to ev'ry scene could give Th ' hiftorian's truth , and bid the manners live . Wak'd at his call I view , with glad furprize , Majestic forms of mighty monarchs rife . Their ...
111 ページ
... wreaths of laurel round : A mean unhonour'd ruin faintly show'd The spot where once thy mausoleum stood : Hardly the form remain'd ; a nodding dome O'ergrown with mofs is now all Virgil's tomb . ' Twas such a scene as gave a kind relief ...
... wreaths of laurel round : A mean unhonour'd ruin faintly show'd The spot where once thy mausoleum stood : Hardly the form remain'd ; a nodding dome O'ergrown with mofs is now all Virgil's tomb . ' Twas such a scene as gave a kind relief ...
113 ページ
... wreath he wears . Did ever Want and Famine sweetly fing ? The fetter'd hand uncouthly ftrikes the ftring . Lo ! ftern Oppreffion lifts her iron rod , And Ruin waits th ' imperious harpy's nod : Black Defolation , and destructive War ...
... wreath he wears . Did ever Want and Famine sweetly fing ? The fetter'd hand uncouthly ftrikes the ftring . Lo ! ftern Oppreffion lifts her iron rod , And Ruin waits th ' imperious harpy's nod : Black Defolation , and destructive War ...
118 ページ
... wreath than Kefar's laurel wear . II . Think not because I write of Columbel I thence would blast the sex with impious tale ; Tranfactions vile of foreign ftronds I tell , Ne ' gainst a British female would I rail For all the wealth ...
... wreath than Kefar's laurel wear . II . Think not because I write of Columbel I thence would blast the sex with impious tale ; Tranfactions vile of foreign ftronds I tell , Ne ' gainst a British female would I rail For all the wealth ...
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beneath bleft bloom bluſh boaſt bofom bow'r breaſt bright charms chearful Columbel dæmons dear dreft e'er eaſe erft Ev'n ev'ry eyes facred fafe fage fair fame fate fcene fear fhade fhall fhine fhould figh fight filent fing firſt fkies flain flow'rs fmile foft folemn fome fong fons foon footh forrow foul freſh ftill fuch fure fweet grace grove heart heav'n honour laſt lefs loft lyre maid mind moſt mourn Mufe Muſe muſt ne'er night nymphs o'er paffion pain peace penfive plain pleaſe pleaſure Pompey pow'r praiſe pride purſue raiſe reafon reſt rife rofe ſcene ſhade ſhall ſhe ſhine ſkies ſky ſmile ſpread ſpring Squire ſtate ſteps ſtill ſtream ſweet taſte tears thee theſe thofe thoſe thou thouſand thro toil train tranſport truth vale Virgil's tomb virtue Whilft whofe whoſe Wiſdom wiſh youth
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2 ページ - Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, , The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
5 ページ - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
3 ページ - The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow'r, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Await alike th' inevitable hour. The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
4 ページ - HAMPDEN that with dauntlefs breaft The little tyrant of his fields withftood : Some mute inglorious MILTON here may reft, Some CROMWELL guiltlefs of his country's blood. Th' applaufe of lift'ning fenates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to defpife, To fcatter plenty o'er a fmiling land, And read their...
153 ページ - The robes of pleasure and the veils of woe: All aid the farce, and all thy mirth maintain, Whose joys are causeless, or whose griefs are vain. Such was the scorn that...
158 ページ - But did not Chance at length her error mend? Did no subverted empire mark his end? Did rival monarchs give the fatal wound ? Or hostile millions press him to the ground? His fall was destined to a barren strand, A petty fortress, and a dubious hand; He left the name, at which the world grew pale, To point a moral, or adorn a tale.
226 ページ - Untainted by the guilty bribe ; Uncurs'd amid the harpy tribe ; No orphan's cry to wound my ear ; My honour and my conscience clear ; Thus may I calmly meet my end, Thus to the grave in peace descend.
152 ページ - And scarce a sycophant was fed by pride; Where ne'er was known the form of mock debate, Or seen a new-made mayor's unwieldy state; Where change of fav'rites made no change of laws, And senates heard before they...
6 ページ - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath and near his favourite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; 'The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou can'st read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
251 ページ - Our portion is not large, indeed ; But then how little do we need ! For nature's calls are few : In this the art of living lies, To want no more than may suffice, And make that little do.