The Works of the English Poets: With Prefaces, Biographical and Critical, Том 56
H. Hughs, 1779
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ancient arms bear beauty beneath bids bright brows charms crown dance delight divine dread earth eyes facred fair fame fate father fear fecret feet fhall fing fire flame flood flow flowers foft fome fong fortune foul fuch fweet gain Games glory gods golden grace grove hand hath head hear heart Heaven heavenly Hiero honour hour human immortal Jove kind king Knight land learned light loft Lord mighty mind mortal move Mufe Nature never noble o'er Olympick once pain peace Pindar plain Poet praiſe pride race rich round ſhall ſtate STROPHE tears tell tender thee thefe Theron theſe thofe thoſe thou thought toils train truth tuneful vain various victory virtue voice whofe whoſe wife young youth
Страница 330 - Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke ; How jocund did they drive their team afield ! How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke...
Страница 333 - customed hill, Along the heath and near his favourite tree ; Another came ; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he : The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Страница 333 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
Страница 330 - Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the Poor. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave Await alike th' inevitable hour : — The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Страница 333 - HERE rests his head upon the lap of earth, A youth to fortune and to fame unknown ; Fair science frowned not on his humble birth, And melancholy marked him for her own.
Страница 340 - This pencil take (she said) whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year : Thine, too, these golden keys, immortal Boy ! This can unlock the gates of Joy ; Of Horror that, and thrilling Fears, Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic Tears.
Страница 347 - Fair laughs the Morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes: Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm: Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That hush'd in grim repose expects his evening prey.
Страница 356 - Strains of Immortality! Horror covers all the heath, Clouds of carnage blot the sun.
Страница 329 - Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds : Save that, from yonder ivy-mantled tower, The moping owl does to the Moon complain Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, Molest her ancient solitary reign.
Страница 340 - This pencil take' (she said), 'whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year: Thine, too, these golden keys, immortal Boy! This can unlock the gates of joy; Of horror that...