Specimens of the British poets, 第 2 巻W. Suttaby, 1809 |
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... all the giddy circle they pursue , And old impertinence expel by new . What tender maid but must a victim fall To one man's treat , but for another's ball ? When Florio speaks , what virgin could withstand , If ALEXANDER POPE .
... all the giddy circle they pursue , And old impertinence expel by new . What tender maid but must a victim fall To one man's treat , but for another's ball ? When Florio speaks , what virgin could withstand , If ALEXANDER POPE .
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... tender billet - doux he lights the pyre , And breathes three amorous sighs to raise the fire . Then prostrate falls , and begs with ardent eyes Soon to obtain , and long possess the prize : The pow'rs gave ear , and granted half his ...
... tender billet - doux he lights the pyre , And breathes three amorous sighs to raise the fire . Then prostrate falls , and begs with ardent eyes Soon to obtain , and long possess the prize : The pow'rs gave ear , and granted half his ...
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... tender head ? And bravely bore the double loads of lead ? Gods ! shall the ravisher display your hair , While the fops envy , and the ladies stare ! Honour forbid ! at whose unrivall'd shrine Ease , pleasure , virtue , all our sex ...
... tender head ? And bravely bore the double loads of lead ? Gods ! shall the ravisher display your hair , While the fops envy , and the ladies stare ! Honour forbid ! at whose unrivall'd shrine Ease , pleasure , virtue , all our sex ...
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... tender names in one , thy love ! The darksome pines that o'er yon rocks reclin'd Wave high , and murmur to the hollow wind , The wandering streams that shine between the hills , The grots that echo to the tinkling rills , The dying ...
... tender names in one , thy love ! The darksome pines that o'er yon rocks reclin'd Wave high , and murmur to the hollow wind , The wandering streams that shine between the hills , The grots that echo to the tinkling rills , The dying ...
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... tender story tell ; The well - sung woes will soothe my pensive ghost ; He best can paint ' em who shall feel ' em most . AN ESSAY ON CRITICISM . PART I. Introduction . - That it is as great a fault to judge ill as to write ill , and a ...
... tender story tell ; The well - sung woes will soothe my pensive ghost ; He best can paint ' em who shall feel ' em most . AN ESSAY ON CRITICISM . PART I. Introduction . - That it is as great a fault to judge ill as to write ill , and a ...
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beauty behold beneath blest bliss bloom bosom breast breath bright charms cheerful dear death delight dread dreams dydd e'er ECLOGUE Eurydice Ev'n ev'ry eyes fair fame Fancy fate fear flowers fond gentle glow golden reign grace grief groves hand hear heart Heav'n hour JOHN HENRY MOORE lord lov'd lyre maid maze of Fate mind MONODY morn mournful Muse Nature's ne'er night numbers nymph o'er pain pale peace pensive Petrarch pity pleas'd pleasure pow'r praise pray'r pride proud rage raptures reign rills rise round sacred scene scorn shade shine sighs sing skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound sprite strain sweet sweet oblivion sylphs tear tender Thalestris thee thine thou thought thro toil trembling Twas vale virtue wave weep wild wind wings wretch wyfe wylle wythe ynne youth
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192 ページ - A stranger yet to pain! I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wing My weary soul they seem to soothe, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring.
325 ページ - I forget the hallow'd grove, Where by the winding Ayr we met, To live one day of parting love? Eternity will not efface Those records dear of transports past; Thy image at our last embrace; Ah ! little thought we 'twas our last ! Ayr gurgling kiss'd his pebbled shore, O'erhung with wild woods, thick'ning green; The fragrant birch, and hawthorn hoar, Twined amorous round the raptured scene.
239 ページ - And thou, sweet Poetry, thou loveliest maid, Still first to fly where sensual joys invade ; Unfit in these degenerate times of shame To catch the heart, or strike for honest fame ; Dear charming nymph, neglected and decried, My shame in crowds, my solitary pride ; Thou source of all my bliss, and all my woe, That found'st me poor at first, and keep'st me so...
15 ページ - Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows ; But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar: When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, The line too labours, and the words move slow : Not so, when swift Camilla scours the plain, Flies o'er the unbending corn, and skims along the main. Hear how Timotheus...
14 ページ - In words, as fashions, the same rule will hold; Alike fantastic, if too new, or old: Be not the first by whom the new are tried, Nor yet the last to lay the old aside.
189 ページ - Await alike th' inevitable hour. The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, If memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Can storied urn, or animated bust, Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can...
239 ページ - tis hard to combat, learns to fly! For him no wretches, born to work and weep, Explore the mine, or tempt the dangerous deep...
188 ページ - THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
221 ページ - Condemn'da needy supplicant to wait, While ladies interpose, and slaves debate. 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 destin'd 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.
316 ページ - My lov'd, my honour'd, much respected friend! No mercenary bard his homage pays; With honest pride, I scorn each selfish end, My dearest meed, a friend's esteem and praise: To you I sing, in simple Scottish lays, The lowly train in life's sequester'd scene, The native feelings strong, the guileless ways, What Aiken in a cottage would have been; Ah! tho' his worth unknown, far happier there I ween! November chill blaws loud wi...