Roach's Beauties of the Modern Poets of Great Britain: Carefully Selected and Arranged ...J. Roach, 1794 |
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Página 31
... mountain doe • Holds the fwift falcon for her deadly foe , • Cold is her breaft , like flowers that drink the dew : A filken veil conceals her from the view . No wild defires amidst thy train be known , But Faith , whose heart is fix'd ...
... mountain doe • Holds the fwift falcon for her deadly foe , • Cold is her breaft , like flowers that drink the dew : A filken veil conceals her from the view . No wild defires amidst thy train be known , But Faith , whose heart is fix'd ...
Página 33
... mountain's fide , The fountain's murmurs , and the valley's pride ; Why think we these less pleafing to behold Than dreary defarts , if they lead to gold ? Sad was the hour and luckless was the day , • When first from Schiraz ' walls I ...
... mountain's fide , The fountain's murmurs , and the valley's pride ; Why think we these less pleafing to behold Than dreary defarts , if they lead to gold ? Sad was the hour and luckless was the day , • When first from Schiraz ' walls I ...
Página 37
... mountains , and the foreft green . Her maids around her mov'd , a duteous band ! Each bore a crook all - rural in her hand : Some fimple lay of flocks and herds they fung ; With joy the mountain and the forest rung . Be ev'ry youth like ...
... mountains , and the foreft green . Her maids around her mov'd , a duteous band ! Each bore a crook all - rural in her hand : Some fimple lay of flocks and herds they fung ; With joy the mountain and the forest rung . Be ev'ry youth like ...
Página 38
... Mountain in Circaffia . - Time , Midnight , N fair Circaffia , where , to love inclin'd , IN Each fwain was bleft , for ev'ry maid was kind ; At that ftill hour when awful midnight reigns , And none but wretches haunt the twilight ...
... Mountain in Circaffia . - Time , Midnight , N fair Circaffia , where , to love inclin'd , IN Each fwain was bleft , for ev'ry maid was kind ; At that ftill hour when awful midnight reigns , And none but wretches haunt the twilight ...
Página 39
... mountain's weary fide ! AGIB . Weak as thou art , yet hapless muft thou know The toils of flight , or fome feverer woe ! Still as I hafte , the Tartar fhouts behind , And fhrieks and forrows load the fadd'ning wind ; of heart , with ...
... mountain's weary fide ! AGIB . Weak as thou art , yet hapless muft thou know The toils of flight , or fome feverer woe ! Still as I hafte , the Tartar fhouts behind , And fhrieks and forrows load the fadd'ning wind ; of heart , with ...
Términos y frases comunes
Beneath beſt blefs bleft blifs boaft bofom bow'r breaft bright charms Cyric death defart defire delight divine doth ECLOGUE EDWARD YOUNG erft eternal ev'ry eyes facred fafe fair fame fate fcene fear feas fecret feem feen felf fenfe fhade fhall fhame fhepherds fhine fhore fhould figh fight filent fing firft firſt fkies flain fleep flow'r fmile foft folemn fome fong forrow foul fpirit fprings frikes ftill ftream fuch fwain fweet Gonne grief grove heart heav'n himſelf juft kings lefs loft Lord lov'd Lycidas maid mind moft moſt Mufe muft muſt nymph o'er paffion pain peace pleaſe pleaſure pow'r praife praiſe purſue raiſe refign'd Refignation reft rife ſcenes ſhall ſhe ſkies ſky ſpread ſweet tears Theatre Royal thee thefe theſe thine thofe thoſe thou thought thouſand thro Twill whilft whofe whoſe WILLIAM SHENSTONE wyllowe
Pasajes populares
Página 40 - Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear, Compels me to disturb your season due : For Lycidas* is dead, dead ere his prime, Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer : Who would not sing for Lycidas ? He knew Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.
Página 57 - Ten thousand thousand precious gifts My daily thanks employ ; Nor is the least a cheerful heart, That tastes those gifts with joy.
Página 3 - Though equal to all things, for all things unfit ; Too nice for a statesman, too proud for a wit, For a patriot too cool, for a drudge disobedient, And too fond of the right to pursue the expedient. In short 'twas his fate, unemploy'd, or in place, sir, To eat mutton cold, and cut blocks with a razor.
Página 42 - Clos'd o'er the head of your lov'd Lycidas? For neither were ye playing on the steep, Where your old Bards, the famous Druids, lie, Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high, Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard stream: Ay me!
Página 6 - Of praise a mere glutton, he swallow'd what came, And the puff of a dunce he mistook it for fame; Till his relish grown callous, almost to disease, Who pepper'd the highest was surest to please. But let us be candid, and speak out our mind, If dunces applauded, he paid them in kind. Ye Kenricks, ye Kellys, and Woodfalls so grave, What a commerce was yours while you got and you gave!
Página 7 - Here Reynolds is laid, and to tell you my mind, He has not left a wiser or better behind ; His pencil was striking, resistless, and grand ; His manners were gentle, complying, and bland : Still born to improve us in every part, His pencil our faces, his manners our heart...
Página 54 - ... shade. In winter fire. Blest, who can unconcern'dly find Hours, days, and years slide soft away. In health of body, peace of mind, Quiet by day. Sound sleep by night; study and ease, Together mixt; sweet recreation: And innocence, which most does please With meditation.
Página 55 - Tempe's vale, her native maids, Amidst the festal sounding shades, To some unwearied minstrel dancing ; While, as his flying fingers kiss'd the strings, Love framed with Mirth a gay fantastic round : Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound; And he, amidst his frolic play, As if he would the charming air repay, Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings.
Página 3 - Were these their crimes! they were his own much more; But wealth is crime enough to him that's poor, Who having spent the treasures of his crown, Condemns their luxury to feed his own ; And yet this act, to varnish o'er the shame Of sacrilege, must bear Devotion's name. No crime so bold but would be understood A real, or at least, a seeming good.
Página 41 - For we were nursed upon the self-same hill, Fed the same flock by fountain, shade, and rill. Together both, ere the high lawns appear'd Under the opening eye-lids of the morn, We drove a-field, and both together heard What time the gray-fly winds her sultry horn...