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Ægypt Archimage arms Athenia bards Bavius beneath blest bliss blissful band boast bow'r breast breast implants charms claim court Delia delight disdain divine Druids earth ease Eclogue Edward EPIGRAM Ev'n eyes fair fame fate fear fire fix'd flame flow'ry foes fond form'd Garter gen'rous Genius gentle giv'n glorious glory grace Greece grove hand happy hath heart heav'n heav'nly Hence honour immortal inspir'd int'rest king knight laws liberty lord lov'd lyre maid mighty mind Muse Muse's nature's ne'er noble nymphs o'er pain passion peace Pindus plac'd plain pleas'd pleasure pow'r praise pride prince prince of Wales rage rais'd refin'd Rome sacred sage shade shew shine sing slave smiling soft song SONNET sooth soul sov'reign spirit sweet tears thee thine thou thought throne toils train truth verse vex'd virtue virtue's virtuous voice wealth Whate'er wise worthy prince wretch youth
Страница 322 - Gainst graver hours that bring constraint To sweeten liberty: Some bold adventurers disdain The limits of their little reign And unknown regions dare descry: Still as they run they look behind, They hear a voice in every wind, And snatch a fearful joy.
Страница 324 - Th' unfeeling for his own. Yet, ah ! why should they know their fate. Since sorrow never comes too late, And happiness too swiftly flies? Thought would destroy their paradise! No more; — where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.
Страница 54 - Seek to be good, but aim not to be great: A woman's noblest station is retreat; Her fairest virtues fly from public sight, Domestic worth, that shuns too strong a light.
Страница 85 - In vain I look around O'er all the well-known ground, My Lucy's wonted footsteps to descry ; Where oft we us'd to walk, Where oft in tender talk We saw the summer Sun go down the sky...
Страница 47 - To whom I gave my own harmonious lyre,. If high exalted on the Throne of Wit, Near Me and Homer thou afpire to fit...
Страница 87 - Lucy's grave, Perform the duties that you doubly owe! Now she, alas! is gone, From folly and from vice their helpless age to save...
Страница 321 - A stranger yet to pain ! I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wing My weary soul they seem to soothe, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring.
Страница 324 - A grisly troop are seen, The painful family of Death, More hideous than their Queen: This racks the joints, this fires the veins, That every labouring sinew strains, Those in the deeper vitals rage: Lo!