The Works of the English Poets: With Prefaces, Biographical and Critical, Том 36

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Samuel Johnson
C. Bathurst, 1779
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Страница 160 - Now, the broad shield complete, the artist crowned With his last hand, and poured the ocean round; In living silver seemed the waves to roll, And beat the buckler's verge, and bound the whole.
Страница 52 - This death deplored, to Hector's rage we owe ; Revenge, revenge it on the cruel foe. Where are those darts on which the Fates attend? And where the bow which Phoebus taught to bend?
Страница 304 - For him through hostile camps I bent my way, For him thus prostrate at thy feet I lay; Large gifts proportion'd to thy wrath I bear; O hear the wretched, and the gods revere...
Страница 246 - Grief tears his heart, and drives him to and fro, In all the raging impotence of woe. At length he roll'd in dust, and thus begun, Imploring all, and naming one by one: 'Ah!
Страница 55 - What hopes remain, what methods to retire, If once your vessels catch the Trojan fire ? Mark how the flames approach, how near they fall, How...
Страница 200 - Tread down whole ranks, and crush out heroes' souls. Dash'd from their hoofs, while o'er the dead they fly, Black bloody drops the smoking chariot dye: The spiky wheels through heaps of carnage tore; And thick the groaning axles dropp'd with gore. High o'er the scene of death Achilles stood...
Страница 63 - No force could tame them, and no toil could tire ; As if new vigour from new fights they won, And the long battle was but then begun. Greece, yet unconquer'd, kept alive the war, Secure of death, confiding in despair...
Страница 128 - The mildest manners, and the gentlest heart; He was, alas ! but fate decreed his end ; In death a hero, as in life a friend !" So parts the chief; from rank to rank he flew, And round on all sides sent his piercing view.
Страница 159 - Dread the grim terrors, and at distance bay. Next this, the eye the art of Vulcan leads Deep through fair forests, and a length of meads ; And stalls, and folds, and scatter'd cots between ; And fleecy flocks, that whiten all the scene.
Страница 2 - 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, " Nor unrevenged, lamented Asius lies : For thee though hell's black portals stand display'd, This mate shall joy thy melancholy shade.

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