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Страница 235 - Of evils, with immortal rest from cares ; Assuage the terrors of the throne of Jove ; And quench the formidable thunderbolt Of unrelenting fire. With...
Страница 195 - Year chases year, decay pursues decay, Still drops some joy from withering life away; New forms arise, and different views engage, Superfluous lags the veteran on the stage, Till pitying Nature signs the last release, And bids afflicted worth retire to peace. But few there are whom hours like these await, Who set unclouded in the gulphs of Fate.
Страница 243 - While with soft sorrow he renews his lays, Nor heedful of their envy, nor their praise. But, soon as Emma's eyes adorn the plain, His notes he raises to a nobler strain, With dutiful respect and studious fear ; Lest any careless sound offend her ear.
Страница 235 - On Thracia's hills the Lord of War Has curb'd the fury of his car, And dropp'd his thirsty lance at thy command. Perching on the sceptred hand Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feather'd king With ruffled plumes, and flagging wing : Quench'd in dark clouds of slumber lie The terror of his beak, and lightnings of his eye.
Страница 212 - I forget all time ; All feafons and their change, all pleafe alike. Sweet is the breath of morn, her rifing fweet, With charm of earlieft birds, pleafant the fun, When firft on this delightful land he fpreads His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and...
Страница 196 - In life's last scene what prodigies surprise, Fears of the brave, and follies of the wise ! From Marlborough's eyes the streams of dotage flow, And Swift expires a driveller and a show.
Страница 145 - Or stain her honour or her new brocade; Forget her prayers, or miss a masquerade; Or lose her heart, or necklace, at a ball ; Or whether Heaven has doom'd that Shock must fall.
Страница 255 - So shall they tally, matchless lovely pair! A youth all transport, and a melting fair! Then let no spies their secret haunts explore. Teach them thy wiles, O love! and guard the door. Assent, chaste queen ! in purple pomp appear ; Thrice wine is pour'd, and cakes await you, here. Her mother tells her for what boon to pray ; Her heart denies it, though her lips obey.
Страница 194 - That life protracted is protracted woe. Time hovers o'er, impatient to destroy, And shuts up all the passages of joy: In vain their gifts the bounteous seasons pour, The fruit autumnal, and the vernal...