The London Magazine, Or, Gentleman's Monthly Intelligencer, Volumen4

C. Ackers, 1735

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Página 378 - Draw on the margin of the stream, or cut The liquid wave with oary feet, that move In equal time. The gliding waters leave No trace behind, and his contracted pores But...
Página 323 - Tis there the villain lurks ; they hover round And claim him as their own. Was I not right ? See ! there he creeps along ; his...
Página 377 - Of nature, with the' embellishments of art. How melts my beating heart! as I behold Each lovely nymph, our island's boast and pride. Push on the generous steed, that strokes along O'er rough, o'er smooth, nor heeds the steepy hill. Nor falters in the' extended vale below: Their garments loosely waving in the wind, And all the flush of beauty in their cheeks!
Página 378 - Skims o'er the lawn ; still the tenacious crew Hang on the track, aloud demand their prey, And push him many a league.
Página 378 - O ! shun, ye noble train, The rude encounter, and believe your lives Your country's due alone. As now aloof They wing around, he finds his...
Página 330 - The music's only in the ear. We're told how planets roll on high, How large their orbits, and how nigh ! I hope in little time to know Whether the moon's a cheese, or no...
Página 377 - He must be more than man, Who unconcern'd can bear the piercing ray. Amelia, milder than the blushing dawn, With sweet engaging air, but equal pow'r, Insensibly subdues, and in soft chains Her willing captives leads.
Página 267 - Rouse all his diligence, or till the chace Sinking he finds ; then to the head he springs With thirst of glory fir'd and wins the prize.
Página 378 - From wood to wood redoubling thunders roll, And bellow thro' the vales ; the moving storm Thickens amain, and loud triumphant shouts, And horns shrill-warbling in each glade, prelude To his approaching fate. And now in view With hobbling gait, and high, exerts amaz'd...
Página 322 - Dispersed, how busily this way, and that, They cross, examining with curious nose Each likely haunt Hark! on the drag I hear Their doubtful notes, preluding to a cry More nobly full, and swell'd with every mouth.

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