A collection of poems, by several hands [ed. by R. Dodsley].1758 |
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Página 31
... round . and onward thence A low plain chapel fronts the morning light Faft by a filent riv'let . Humbly walk , O ftranger , o'er the confecrated ground ; And on that verdant hilloc , which thou fee'st Beset with ofiers , let thy pious ...
... round . and onward thence A low plain chapel fronts the morning light Faft by a filent riv'let . Humbly walk , O ftranger , o'er the confecrated ground ; And on that verdant hilloc , which thou fee'st Beset with ofiers , let thy pious ...
Página 33
... round His monument with reverence while ye ftand , Say to each other : " This was Shakespear's form ; " Who walk'd in every path of human life , " Felt every paffion ; and to all mankind " Doth now , will ever that experience yield ...
... round His monument with reverence while ye ftand , Say to each other : " This was Shakespear's form ; " Who walk'd in every path of human life , " Felt every paffion ; and to all mankind " Doth now , will ever that experience yield ...
Página 39
... round each nodding wall Entwine it's fatal wreath , Yet fay , can Rhine or Danube boast The numerous glories thou haft lost ? Can ev'n Euphrates ' palmy shore , Or Nile , with all his myftic lore , Produce from old records of genuine ...
... round each nodding wall Entwine it's fatal wreath , Yet fay , can Rhine or Danube boast The numerous glories thou haft lost ? Can ev'n Euphrates ' palmy shore , Or Nile , with all his myftic lore , Produce from old records of genuine ...
Página 44
... round , Where flept the Heroes of the Julian name , Say , fhall we linger ftill in thought profound , And meditate the mournful paths to fame ? * It is now a garden belonging to Marchefe di Corré , What What no ' no cyprefs fhades , in ...
... round , Where flept the Heroes of the Julian name , Say , fhall we linger ftill in thought profound , And meditate the mournful paths to fame ? * It is now a garden belonging to Marchefe di Corré , What What no ' no cyprefs fhades , in ...
Página 47
... . For Beauty charms us , whether she appears In blended colours ; or to foothing found Attunes her voice ; or fair proportion wears In yonder fwelling dome's harmonious round . All , All , all the charms ; but not alike to [ 47 ]
... . For Beauty charms us , whether she appears In blended colours ; or to foothing found Attunes her voice ; or fair proportion wears In yonder fwelling dome's harmonious round . All , All , all the charms ; but not alike to [ 47 ]
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A collection of poems, by several hands [ed. by R. Dodsley]. [2 other copies ... Collection Visualização integral - 1766 |
A collection of poems, by several hands [ed. by R. Dodsley]. [2 other copies ... Collection Visualização integral - 1765 |
Palavras e frases frequentes
bard beauty behold beneath bleffings bleft blifs boaſt bofom breaſt charms chearful Chlorinda cloſe cou'd courſe eaſe Ev'n ev'ry facred fafe fage fair fame fate fcene feat fenfe fhade fhall fhew fhou'd fhun figh filent fince firft firſt flow'rs fmile foft folar folemn fome fong fons foul freſh ftands ftate ftill ftream fuch fure fweet genius glory grace grove hand heart heav'n laſt Latian lefs loft lyre mind moſt Mufe muft Muſe muſt Naiads ne'er numbers Nymphs o'er paffion peace plain pleas'd pleaſe pleaſure pow'r praiſe purſue raiſe reafon reft rife ſcene ſhade ſhall ſhape ſhare ſhe ſhould ſky ſmile ſpeak ſpirit ſpread ſprings ſtate ſteps ſtill ſtrains ſweet taſk taſte thee thefe theſe thofe thoſe thou thouſand thro toil vale virtue Whilft whofe whoſe wife wings wiſh worfe wou'd youth
Passagens conhecidas
Página 321 - On a rock, whose haughty brow Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood, Robed in the sable garb of woe, With haggard eyes the Poet stood ; Loose his beard, and hoary hair Stream'd, like a meteor, to the troubled air And, with a Master's hand, and Prophet's fire, Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre.
Página 322 - Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, Ye died amidst your dying country's cries — No more I weep. They do not sleep. On yonder cliffs, a grisly band, I see them sit, they linger yet, Avengers of their native land : With me in dreadful harmony they join, And weave with bloody hands the tissue of thy line.
Página 317 - Aeolian lyre, awake, And give to rapture all thy trembling strings. From Helicon's harmonious springs A thousand rills their mazy progress take: The laughing flowers, that round them blow, Drink life and fragrance as they flow. Now the rich stream of music winds along, Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong, Through verdant vales and Ceres...
Página 318 - Perching on the sceptred hand Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feather'd king With ruffled plumes, and flagging wing : Quench'd in dark clouds of slumber lie The terror of his beak, and lightnings of his eye.
Página 28 - The language of our fathers. Here he dwelt For many a cheerful day. These ancient walls Have often heard him, while his legends blithe He sang; of love, or knighthood, or the wiles Of homely life; through each estate and age, The fashions and the follies of the world With cunning hand portraying.
Página 321 - And with a Master's hand, and Prophet's fire, Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre. 'Hark, how each giant-oak, and desert cave, Sighs to the torrent's aweful voice beneath ! O'er thee, oh King ! their hundred arms they wave,. Revenge on thee in hoarser murmurs breathe ; Vocal no more, since Cambria's fatal day, To high-born Hoel's harp, or soft Llewellyn's lay.
Página 319 - Muse? Night and all her sickly dews, Her Spectres wan, and Birds of boding cry, He gives to range the dreary sky; Till down the eastern cliffs afar Hyperion's march they spy, and glitt'ring shafts of war.
Página 323 - Fair laughs the Morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes: Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm: Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That hush'd in grim repose expects his evening prey.
Página 27 - Actaea, daughter of the neighbouring stream, . This cave belongs. The fig-tree and the vine, Which o'er the rocky entrance downward shoot, Were placed by Glycon.
Página 325 - Fond impious man, think'st thou yon sanguine cloud Raised by thy breath, has quench'd the orb of day? To-morrow he repairs the golden flood And warms the nations with redoubled ray. Enough for me : with joy I see The different doom our fates assign : Be thine Despair and sceptred Care, To triumph and to die are mine.