The Muses' Bower,: Embellished with the Beauties of English Poetry, Том 2W. Plant Piercy, 1809 |
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... Lady • · • Anstey • 168 Idem . 171 · • · Soliloquy of a Beauty in the Country Epistle to a Lady in Town Henry and Emma Eloisa to Abelard Extracts from Louisa · . · Idem . . 178 Goldsmith . 182 Swift · . 187 Jago . . 195 T. Warton 196 Ld ...
... Lady • · • Anstey • 168 Idem . 171 · • · Soliloquy of a Beauty in the Country Epistle to a Lady in Town Henry and Emma Eloisa to Abelard Extracts from Louisa · . · Idem . . 178 Goldsmith . 182 Swift · . 187 Jago . . 195 T. Warton 196 Ld ...
Страница 171
... Lady Bunbutter , no doubt , How she loves an assembly , fandango , or rout : No lady in London is half so expert At a snug private party her friends to divert ; But they say that , of late , she's grown sick of the town , And often to ...
... Lady Bunbutter , no doubt , How she loves an assembly , fandango , or rout : No lady in London is half so expert At a snug private party her friends to divert ; But they say that , of late , she's grown sick of the town , And often to ...
Страница 172
Embellished with the Beauties of English Poetry English poetry. My Lady declares that retiring is good ; As all with ... ladies ashore . How the misses did huddle and scuddle , and run ; One would think to be wet must be very good fun ...
Embellished with the Beauties of English Poetry English poetry. My Lady declares that retiring is good ; As all with ... ladies ashore . How the misses did huddle and scuddle , and run ; One would think to be wet must be very good fun ...
Страница 173
... Lady Mouzer , And the great Hanoverian Baron Pansmowzer . Besides many others , who all in the rain went , On ... ladies dispatch'd with the utmost decorum . Soft musical numbers were heard all around , The horns and the clarions ...
... Lady Mouzer , And the great Hanoverian Baron Pansmowzer . Besides many others , who all in the rain went , On ... ladies dispatch'd with the utmost decorum . Soft musical numbers were heard all around , The horns and the clarions ...
Страница 174
... Lady Bunbutter , in beautiful pride ! Oft turning his eyes , he with rapture survey'd All the powerful charms she so nobly display'd . As when at the feast of the great Alexander , Timotheus , the musical son of Thersander , Breath'd ...
... Lady Bunbutter , in beautiful pride ! Oft turning his eyes , he with rapture survey'd All the powerful charms she so nobly display'd . As when at the feast of the great Alexander , Timotheus , the musical son of Thersander , Breath'd ...
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Abelard Abra amorous tale Arion arms beauteous beauty beneath blest bliss blooming blushing bosom bowers brails breast charms cheek Circassia clan Ross clouds coursers damsel dear death deep delight despair dread ECLOGUE Emma Emma's Ev'n ev'ry eyes fair faithless falchion fame fatal fatal ring fate fear fix'd flame flowers gales glowing golden grace Græme grief groan grove hand haste hear heart heav'n honour Hyperanthes light lord lov'd lover Maia maid morn mournful ne'er night Nut-brown Maid nymph o'er pain pale Palemon Persian plain pleasure Poison'd pow'r pray'r pride rills Rodmond rose rove scene seem'd shade shining shore sighs skies smiles soft soon sorrow soul spread stream sweet swift tears tempest tender Teribazus thee thou thought thro toil touch'd trembling vale venison view'd virtue voice waves weep wind wings woes wretched Xerxes youth
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Страница 92 - And now, lash'd on by destiny severe, With horror fraught, the dreadful scene drew near! The ship hangs hovering on the verge of death, Hell yawns, rocks rise, and breakers roar beneath!— In vain, alas! the sacred shades of yore Would arm the mind with philosophic lore; In vain they'd teach us, at the latest breath, To smile serene amid the pangs of death.
Страница 241 - Why feels my heart its long-forgotten heat ? Yet, yet I love! — From Abelard it came, And Eloisa yet must kiss the name. Dear fatal name! rest ever unreveal'd, Nor pass these lips in holy silence seal'd : 10 Hide it, my heart, within that close disguise, Where mix'd with God's, his lov'd Idea lies : O write it not my hand — the name appears Already written — wash it out, my tears!
Страница 243 - Some emanation of th' all-beauteous Mind. Those smiling eyes, attemp'ring ev'ry ray, Shone sweetly lambent with celestial day. Guiltless I gaz'd ; Heav'n listen'd while you sung ; And truths divine came mended from that tongue. From lips like those what precept fail'd to move ? Too soon they taught me 'twas no sin to love : Back thro' the paths of pleasing sense I ran, Nor wish'd an Angel whom I lov'da Man.
Страница 181 - Oh ! let him alone, For making a blunder, or picking a bone. But hang it - to poets who seldom can eat, Your very good mutton's a very good treat; Such dainties to them, their health it might hurt, It's like sending them ruffles, when wanting a shirt.
Страница 242 - Her heart still dictates, and her hand obeys. Relentless walls ! whose darksome round contains Repentant sighs, and voluntary pains : Ye rugged rocks, which holy knees have worn ; Ye grots and caverns shagg'd with horrid thorn...
Страница 246 - Not on the cross my eyes were fix'd, but you : Not grace, or zeal, love only was my call, And if I lose thy love, I lose my all.
Страница 254 - Thou, Abelard ! the last sad office pay, And smooth my passage to the realms of day ; See my lips tremble, and my eye-balls roll, Suck my last breath, and catch my flying soul ! Ah no — in sacred vestments may'st thou stand, The hallow'd taper trembling in thy hand, Present the Cross before my lifted eye, Teach me at once, and learn of me to die.
Страница 56 - The warbling birds exalt their evening lay : Blithe skipping o'er yon hill, the fleecy train Join the deep chorus of the lowing plain ; The golden lime, and orange, there were seen . On fragrant branches of perpetual green ; The crystal streams that velvet meadows lave, To the green Ocean roll with chiding wave. . The glassy Ocean hushed forgets to roar, But trembling murmurs on the sandy shore...
Страница 243 - No happier task these faded eyes pursue; To read and weep is all they now can do. Then share thy pain, allow that sad relief; Ah, more than share it, give me all thy grief.
Страница 222 - What is true passion, if unblest it dies ? And where is Emma's joy, if Henry flies ? If love, alas! be pain; the pain I bear No thought can figure, and no tongue declare.