The Works of the English Poets: Pope's HomerH. Hughs, 1779 |
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... Ev'n now fome energy divine I share , · 105 And feem to walk on wings , and tread in air ! With equal ardour ( Telamon returns ) My foul is kindled , and my bofom burns : New rifing fpirits all my force alarm , Lift each impatient limb ...
... Ev'n now fome energy divine I share , · 105 And feem to walk on wings , and tread in air ! With equal ardour ( Telamon returns ) My foul is kindled , and my bofom burns : New rifing fpirits all my force alarm , Lift each impatient limb ...
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... ev'n this fuccour vain : 310 Not vain the weakest , if their force unite ; But ours , the bravest have confess'd in fight . This faid , he rushes where the combat burns ; Swift to his tent the Cretan king returns . From thence , two ...
... ev'n this fuccour vain : 310 Not vain the weakest , if their force unite ; But ours , the bravest have confess'd in fight . This faid , he rushes where the combat burns ; Swift to his tent the Cretan king returns . From thence , two ...
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... there be Who knows not Merion , I appeal to thee . To this , Idomeneus ' : The fields of fight Have prov'd thy valour , and unconquer " ' d might 3 350 And And were fome ambush for the foes défign'd , Ev'n 34 POPE'S HOMER .
... there be Who knows not Merion , I appeal to thee . To this , Idomeneus ' : The fields of fight Have prov'd thy valour , and unconquer " ' d might 3 350 And And were fome ambush for the foes défign'd , Ev'n 34 POPE'S HOMER .
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... Ev'n there , thy courage would not lag behind . In that sharp fervice , fingled from the reft , The fear of each , or valour , ftands confeft , No force , no firmness , the pale coward shows ; 355 } He shifts his place ; his colour ...
... Ev'n there , thy courage would not lag behind . In that sharp fervice , fingled from the reft , The fear of each , or valour , ftands confeft , No force , no firmness , the pale coward shows ; 355 } He shifts his place ; his colour ...
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... Ev'n then , the spear the vigorous arm confest , And pierc'd , obliquely , king Hypfenor's breaft : Warm'd in his liver , to the ground it bore The chief , his people's guardian now no more ! Not unattended ( the proud Trojan cries ) ...
... Ev'n then , the spear the vigorous arm confest , And pierc'd , obliquely , king Hypfenor's breaft : Warm'd in his liver , to the ground it bore The chief , his people's guardian now no more ! Not unattended ( the proud Trojan cries ) ...
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Achilles Æneas Ajax Antilochus arms Atrides Automedon blood bold brave breaſt breath chariot chief cloſe courfers courſe dart dead death defcends diftant divine dreadful duft Ev'n eyes facred faid falchion fall fame fate fhades fhall fhining fhips fhore fhould fide field fierce fight filver fire flain flame flaughter flew flies fome forrows foul fpear ftand ftern ftill ftream fuch fury fwift glory god-like Goddeſs Gods gore Grecian Greece Greeks hand Heaven Hector hero hoft honours hoſt Idomeneus Ilion javelin Jove Jove's king laft lance laſt Lycian Merion mortal muſt Neptune o'er Oïleus Patroclus Peleus Pelides Phoebus pierc'd plain Polydamas Priam prize race rage refound reft rife round Scamander ſhade ſhakes ſhall ſhips ſhore Simoïs ſkies ſpear ſpoke ſpread ſtands ſteeds ſtood Teucer thee thefe theſe Thetis thofe thoſe thou thunder trembling Trojan Troy warriour whofe whoſe wound youth
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Страница 188 - Along the ftreet the new-made brides are led, "With torches flaming, to the nuptial bed : The youthful dancers in a circle bound To the foft flute, and cittern's filver found: Through the fair ftreets, the matrons in a row 57$ •Stand in their porches, and enjoy
Страница 264 - when autumn weighs) And o'er the feebler (tars exerts his rays; 40 Terrific glory ! for his burning breath Taints the red air with fevers, plagues, and death. So flam'd his fiery mail. Then wept the fage ; He ftrikes his reverend head: now white with age
Страница 348 - began ; 645 > They bore as heroes, but they felt 'as man. } Satiate at length with unavailing woes, From the high throne divine Achilles rofe; The reverend monarch by the hand he rais'd ; On his white beard and form majeftic gaz'd, 650 Not unrelenting : then ferene began With words to foothe the miferable man : Alas
Страница 105 - Automedon (an honour'd name, The fecond to his lord in love and fame, In peace his friend, and partner of the war) 180 The winged courfers harnefs'd to the car; Xanthus and Balius, of immortal breed, Sprung from the wind, and like the wind in fpeed; Whom the wing'd Harpy, fwift Podarge, bore, By Zephyr pregnant
Страница 264 - What gafping numbers now had bit the ground! Thou robb'ft me of a glory juftly mine, Powerful of Godhead, and of fraud divine : Mean fame, alas ! for one of heavenly ftrain, To cheat a mortal, who repines in vain. 30 Then to the city terrible and ftrong, With high and haughty fteps he
Страница 278 - gate. He ceas'd. The Fates fuppreft his labouring breath, And his eyes ftiffen'd at the hand of death ; To the dark realm the fpirit wings its way 455 (The manly body left a load of clay) And plaintive glides along the dreary coaft, A naked, wandering, melancholy ghoft ! Achilles,
Страница 279 - (Unworthy of himfelf and of the dead). The nervous ancles bor'd, his feet he bound With thongs inferted through the double wound ; Thefe fix'd up high behind the rolling wain, His graceful head was trail'd along the plain. 500 Proud on his car th
Страница 337 - come, A willing ghoft to Pluto's dreary dome ! He faid, and feebly drives his friends away: The forrowing friends his frantic rage obey. 310 Next on his fons his erring fury falls,. Polites, Paris, Agathon, he calls ; His threats Dei'phobus and Dius hear, . Hippothoiis, Pammon, Helenus the feer, And generous Antiphon : for yet thefe nine
Страница 3 - Thrice happy race ! that, innocent of blood, From milk, innoxious, feek their fimple food : Jove fees delighted ; and avoids the fcene Of guilty Troy, of arms, and dying men : No aid, he deems, to either hoft is given, 15 While his high law fufpends the powers of Heaven. Mean-time the • Monarch of the
Страница 37 - of war to us not idly given, Lo ! Greece is humbled, not by Troy, but Heaven. Vain are the hopes that haughty mind imparts, To force our fleet: the Greeks have hands, and hearts. Long ere in flames our lofty navy fall, Your boafted city and your god-built wall Shall fink beneath us, fmoaking on the ground;