A Collection of Poems: In Six Volumes, Том 6J. Hughs, 1765 |
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Страница 44
... beauty ought not to be tried But by its native power to please , Then tell me , youths and lovers , tell , What fair can Amoret excell ? II . Behold that bright unsullied smile , And wisdom speaking in her mien : Yet ( fhe fo artless ...
... beauty ought not to be tried But by its native power to please , Then tell me , youths and lovers , tell , What fair can Amoret excell ? II . Behold that bright unsullied smile , And wisdom speaking in her mien : Yet ( fhe fo artless ...
Страница 45
... beauty's happieft part : This gives the most unbounded sway : This fhall inchant the fubject heart When rofe and lily fade away ; And She be still , in spite of time , Sweet Amoret in all her prime . 7 ODE Ο DE TO THE XXX T I B E R. ( 45 )
... beauty's happieft part : This gives the most unbounded sway : This fhall inchant the fubject heart When rofe and lily fade away ; And She be still , in spite of time , Sweet Amoret in all her prime . 7 ODE Ο DE TO THE XXX T I B E R. ( 45 )
Страница 58
... ; the fofter arts , The sweetly - founding string , and pencil's pow'r , Have warm'd to rapture even heroic hearts , And taught the rude to wonder , and adore . For For Beauty charms us , whether she appears In blended ( 58 )
... ; the fofter arts , The sweetly - founding string , and pencil's pow'r , Have warm'd to rapture even heroic hearts , And taught the rude to wonder , and adore . For For Beauty charms us , whether she appears In blended ( 58 )
Страница 59
In Six Volumes. 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 ... Beauty charms us, whether she appears ...
In Six Volumes. 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 ... Beauty charms us, whether she appears ...
Страница 96
... beauty ? are these good ? No : they may be accepted , not pursued : Abfurd to fquabble thus about a name , Quibbling with diff'rent words , that mean the fame . Stoic , were you not fram'd of flesh and blood , You might be bleft without ...
... beauty ? are these good ? No : they may be accepted , not pursued : Abfurd to fquabble thus about a name , Quibbling with diff'rent words , that mean the fame . Stoic , were you not fram'd of flesh and blood , You might be bleft without ...
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bard beauty behold beneath beſt bleffings bleft boaſt bofom breaſt cauſe charms Chlorinda diftant eaſe Ev'n facred fafe fage fair fame fate fcene feat fenfe fhade fhall fhew fhun figh filent fince firft firſt flow'rs fmile foft folar folemn fome fong fons foul freſh friendſhip ftands ftate ftill fuch fure fweet fwelling genius glory Goddeſs grace grove gueſt guife hand heart heav'n himſelf juft laſt Latian lefs loft lyre mind moſt Mufe muft Muſe muſt Naiads ne'er numbers Nymphs o'er paffion pain peace plain pleas'd pleaſe pleaſure pow'r praiſe purſue raiſe reft rife rofe ſcene ſhade ſhall ſhe ſhould ſky ſpeak ſpirit ſpread ſprings ſtate ſteps ſtill ſtrains ſtream ſweet taſk taſte thee thefe theſe thofe thoſe thou thouſand toil truth vale virtue Whilft whofe Whoſe wife wings wiſh youth
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Страница 387 - Hark, his hands the lyre explore ! Bright-eyed Fancy hovering o'er Scatters from her pidur'd urn Thoughts, that breathe, and words, that burn. But ah ! 'tis heard no more — Oh! Lyre divine, what daring Spirit Wakes thee now ? though he inherit Nor the pride, nor ample pinion, That the Theban Eagle bear Sailing with
Страница 391 - Thy fon is gone. He refts among the Dead. " The Swarm, that in thy noon-tide beam were born, " Gone to falute the rifing Morn. " Fair laughs the Morn, and foft the Zephyr blows, " While proudly riding o'er the azure realm
Страница 386 - This pencil take (fhe faid) whofe colours clear Richly paint the vernal year: Thine too thefe golden keys, immortal Boy ! This can unlock the gates of Joy ; Of Horrour that, and thrilling Fears, Or ope the facred fource of fympathetic Tears. III. 2.
Страница 384 - II. i. Man's feeble race what Ills await, Labour, and Penury, the racks of Pain, Difeafe, and Sorrow's weeping train, And Death, fad refuge from the ftorms of Fate ! The fond complaint, my Song, difprove, And juftify the laws of Jove. Say, has he given in vain the heav'nly Mufe ? Night, and all her fickly dews, Her
Страница 387 - tis heard no more — Oh! Lyre divine, what daring Spirit Wakes thee now ? though he inherit Nor the pride, nor ample pinion, That the Theban Eagle bear Sailing with fupreme dominion Through the azure deep of air: Yet oft before his infant eyes would run Such forms, as glitter in the Mufe's ray With orient hues, unborrow'd of the
Страница 389 - (Loofe his beard, and hoary hair Stream'd, like a meteor, to the troubled air) And with a Matter's hand, and Prophet's fire, Struck the deep forrows of his lyre. * Hark, how each giant-oak, and defart cave, * Sighs to the torrent's
Страница 390 - The characters of hell to trace. " Mark the year, and mark the night, " When Severn fhall re-echo with affright " The fhrieks of death, through Berkley's roofs that ring, " Shrieks of an agonizing King! " She-Wolf of France, with unrelenting fangs,
Страница 382 - A WAKE, /Eolian lyre, awake, * And give to rapture all thy trembling firings. From Helicon's harmonious fprings A thoufand rills their mazy progrefs take: The laughing flowers, that round them blow, Drink life and fragrance as they flow. Now the ; rich ftream of mufic winds along Deep, majeftic, fmooth and ftrong, Through verdant vales, and Ceres' golden reign: Now rolling down the
Страница 390 - they lie, * Smear'd with gore, and ghaftly pale: * Far, far aloof th' affrighted ravens fail; * The famifh'd Eagle fcreams, and paffes by. * Dear loft companions of my tuneful art, * Dear, as the light, that vifits thefe fad eyes, * Dear, as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, ' Ye died amidft your dying country's cries — ' No more I weep. They do not deep.
Страница 391 - From thee be born, who o'er thy country hangs *' The fcourge of Heav'n. What Terrors round him wait! ** Amazement in his van, with Flight combin'd, " And Sorrow's faded form, and Solitude behind. II. 2. " Mighty Victor, mighty Lord, " Low on his funeral couch he lies ! " No pitying heart, no eye afford " A tear to grace his obfequies. »** Is the fable