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appear arms bear beauty began better blood born called cause Chaucer court Cymon death desire Dryden EPISTLE equal eyes face fair fame fate father fear fight fire force fortune gave give grace ground hand happy head heart heaven honour hope Italy judge kind king knight known lady least leave length less light lines live look lord lost means mind muse nature never noble once original pain Palamon person play pleased pleasure poem poet poetry praise present prince pursue queen race raised received rest seems seen side sight soon soul sound stood sweet tale tears thee thing thou thought took translation true turn verses virtue wife young youth
Страница 187 - Those are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were slain, And, unburied, remain Inglorious on the plain : Give the vengeance due To the valiant crew. Behold how they toss their torches on high, How they point to the Persian abodes, And glittering temples of their hostile gods.
Страница 189 - At last divine Cecilia came, Inventress of the vocal frame ; The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, Enlarged the former narrow bounds, And added length to solemn sounds, With nature's mother- wit, and arts unknown before. Let old Timotheus yield the prize, Or both divide the crown ; He raised a mortal to the skies, She drew an angel down.
Страница 160 - THREE Poets, in three distant ages born, Greece, Italy, and England did adorn. The first in loftiness of thought surpassed; The next in majesty •, In both the last. The force of Nature could no further go ; To make a third, she joined the former two.
Страница 185 - Flush'd with a purple grace, He shows his honest face; Now give the hautboys breath: he comes! he comes! Bacchus, ever fair and young, Drinking joys did first ordain ; Bacchus...
Страница 215 - I wol yow telle a tale which that I Lerned at Padowe of a worthy clerk, As preved by his wordes and his werk. He is now deed and nayled in his cheste, I prey to god so yeve his soule reste.
Страница 219 - In the first place, as he is the father of English poetry, so I hold him in the same degree of veneration as the Grecians held Homer or the Romans Virgil.
Страница 168 - Excites us to arms With shrill notes of anger And mortal alarms. The double double double beat Of the thundering drum Cries, hark ! the foes come ; Charge, charge, 'tis too late to retreat.
Страница 170 - GRAND CHORUS. As from the power of sacred lays The spheres began to move, And sung the great Creator's praise To all the blest above : So when the last and dreadful hour This crumbling pageant shall devour, The trumpet shall be heard on high, The dead shall live, the living die, And Music shall untune the sky.
Страница 191 - But, oh, inflame and fire our hearts ! Our frailties help, our vice control, Submit the senses to the soul; And when rebellious they are grown, Then lay thy hand, and hold them down. Chase from our minds the infernal foe, And peace, the fruit of Love, bestow ; And lest our feet should step astray, Protect and guide us in the way.