A collection of poems, by several hands [ed. by R. Dodsley].1758 |
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Страница 56
... face difguise , And habits odd to modern eyes . Behold what kings in Britain reign'd , Plantagenets with blood diftain'd , And valiant Tudor's haughty race , And Stuarts , England's worst disgrace . The Norman firft , with cruel frown ...
... face difguise , And habits odd to modern eyes . Behold what kings in Britain reign'd , Plantagenets with blood diftain'd , And valiant Tudor's haughty race , And Stuarts , England's worst disgrace . The Norman firft , with cruel frown ...
Страница 76
... face in tears . Though ev'ry fofter wish were amply crown'd , Love foon wou'd ceafe to fmile where Fortune frown'd ; Then wou'd thy foul my fond confent deplore , And blame what it follicited before ; Thy own exhausted would reproach my ...
... face in tears . Though ev'ry fofter wish were amply crown'd , Love foon wou'd ceafe to fmile where Fortune frown'd ; Then wou'd thy foul my fond confent deplore , And blame what it follicited before ; Thy own exhausted would reproach my ...
Страница 85
... face but fix my closing eye , Permitted where I might not live to die , My foften❜d fate I wou'd accuse no more ; But fate has no fuch happiness in ftore . " Tis past , ' tis done - what gleam of hope behind , When I can ne'er be falfe ...
... face but fix my closing eye , Permitted where I might not live to die , My foften❜d fate I wou'd accuse no more ; But fate has no fuch happiness in ftore . " Tis past , ' tis done - what gleam of hope behind , When I can ne'er be falfe ...
Страница 86
... now become The gen'ral pity , not the boast of Rome . This form , a pattern to the sculptor's art , This face , the idol once of Pompey's heart , ( Whofe ( Whofe pictur'd beauties Rome thought fit to place The [ 86 ]
... now become The gen'ral pity , not the boast of Rome . This form , a pattern to the sculptor's art , This face , the idol once of Pompey's heart , ( Whofe ( Whofe pictur'd beauties Rome thought fit to place The [ 86 ]
Страница 96
... face , And charm the little flutterer to peace . weary XXV . But now the king , or tafteless to my charms , Or of an absent mistress ' arms , His own apartment seeks , and grateful rest ; That courted ftranger to the careful breast ...
... face , And charm the little flutterer to peace . weary XXV . But now the king , or tafteless to my charms , Or of an absent mistress ' arms , His own apartment seeks , and grateful rest ; That courted ftranger to the careful breast ...
Друга издања - Прикажи све
Чести термини и фразе
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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Страница 2 - 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.
Страница 5 - 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.
Страница 3 - 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.
Страница 4 - 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...
Страница 153 - 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...
Страница 158 - 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.
Страница 226 - 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.
Страница 152 - 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...
Страница 6 - 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.
Страница 251 - 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.