The Works of Alexander Pope, Esq. ...: Translations and imitationsJ. and P. Knapton, 1751 |
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Página 9
... these ? He's gone , whom only she defir'd to please ! Cupid's light darts my tender bofom move , Still is there cause for Sappho still to love : So from my birth the Sifters fix'd my doom , And gave to Venus all my life to come ; 90 ...
... these ? He's gone , whom only she defir'd to please ! Cupid's light darts my tender bofom move , Still is there cause for Sappho still to love : So from my birth the Sifters fix'd my doom , And gave to Venus all my life to come ; 90 ...
Página 11
... these arms , and melt in this embrace ! The vows you never will return , receive ; And take at least the love you will not give . See , while I write , my words are loft in tears ; The lefs my fenfe , the more my love appears . Sure ...
... these arms , and melt in this embrace ! The vows you never will return , receive ; And take at least the love you will not give . See , while I write , my words are loft in tears ; The lefs my fenfe , the more my love appears . Sure ...
Página 15
... these , Yet , while I blush , confefs how much they please . But when , with day , the sweet delusions fly , And all things wake to life and joy , but I , As if once more forfaken , I complain , And close my eyes to dream of you again ...
... these , Yet , while I blush , confefs how much they please . But when , with day , the sweet delusions fly , And all things wake to life and joy , but I , As if once more forfaken , I complain , And close my eyes to dream of you again ...
Página 21
... these rocks than to thy bofom preft ? This breast which once , in vain ! you lik'd fo well ; Where the Loves play'd , and where the Mufes dwell . Alas ! the Mufes now no more inspire , Untun'd my lute , and filent is my lyre , My ...
... these rocks than to thy bofom preft ? This breast which once , in vain ! you lik'd fo well ; Where the Loves play'd , and where the Mufes dwell . Alas ! the Mufes now no more inspire , Untun'd my lute , and filent is my lyre , My ...
Página 25
Alexander Pope. 1 * ( 25 ) ELO IS A ΤΟ ABELARD . I N these deep folitudes and awful cells , Where heav'nly - penfive contemplation dwells , And ever - mufing melancholy reigns ; What means this tumult in a Veftal's veins ? Why rove my ...
Alexander Pope. 1 * ( 25 ) ELO IS A ΤΟ ABELARD . I N these deep folitudes and awful cells , Where heav'nly - penfive contemplation dwells , And ever - mufing melancholy reigns ; What means this tumult in a Veftal's veins ? Why rove my ...
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Página 30 - With other beauties charm my partial eyes, Full in my view set all the bright abode, And make my soul quit Abelard for God.
Página 31 - Long-sounding aisles, and intermingled graves, Black Melancholy sits, and round her throws A death-like silence., and a dread repose: Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene, Shades ev'ry flow'r, and darkens ev'ry green, Deepens the murmur of the falling floods, And breathes a browner horror on the woods.
Página 19 - Phaon's hate, And hope from seas and rocks a milder fate. Ye gentle gales, beneath my body blow, And softly lay me on the waves below!
Página 29 - ... on earth there be), And once the lot of Abelard and me. Alas, how chang'd ! what...
Página 26 - Yet write, oh write me all, that I may join Griefs to thy griefs, and echo sighs to thine. Nor foes nor fortune take this power away; And is my Abelard less kind than they?
Página 36 - Ah come not, write not, think not once of me, Nor share one pang of all I felt for thee. Thy oaths I quit, thy memory resign, Forget, renounce me, hate whate'er was mine.
Página 39 - When this rebellious heart shall beat no more; If ever chance two wand'ring lovers brings To Paraclete's white walls and silver springs, O'er the pale marble shall they join their heads, And drink the falling tears each other sheds, 350 Then sadly say, with mutual pity mov'd, "Oh may we never love as these have lov'd!
Página 29 - Ev'n thought meets thought, ere from the lips it part, And each warm wish springs mutual from the heart. This sure is bliss (if bliss on earth there be) And once the lot of Abelard and me.
Página 26 - Nor prayers nor fasts its stubborn pulse restrain, Nor tears for ages taught to flow in vain. Soon as thy letters trembling I unclose, That well-known name awakens all my woes.
Página 31 - The darksome pines, that o'er yon rocks reclin'd, Wave high, and murmur to the hollow wind, The wandering streams that shine between the hills, The grots that echo to the tinkling rills, The dying gales that pant upon the trees, The lakes that quiver to the curling breeze...