A Collection of Poems in Six Volumes. By Several Hands, Том 6Robert Dodsley J. Hughs, 1765 |
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... youths and lovers , tell , What fair can Amoret excell ? II . Behold that bright unfullied fmile , And wisdom speaking in her mien : Yet ( fhe fo artless all the while , So little ftudious to be feen ) We nought but inftant gladness ...
... youths and lovers , tell , What fair can Amoret excell ? II . Behold that bright unfullied fmile , And wisdom speaking in her mien : Yet ( fhe fo artless all the while , So little ftudious to be feen ) We nought but inftant gladness ...
Страница 45
Robert Dodsley. 1 III . But neither music , nor the powers Of youth and mirth and frolic cheer , Add half that sunshine to the hours , Or make life's prospect half so clear , As memory brings it to the eye From scenes where Amoret was by ...
Robert Dodsley. 1 III . But neither music , nor the powers Of youth and mirth and frolic cheer , Add half that sunshine to the hours , Or make life's prospect half so clear , As memory brings it to the eye From scenes where Amoret was by ...
Страница 49
... ' hiftorian and the bard . By them the hero's generous rage Still warm in youth immortal lives ; And in their adamantine page Thy glory ftill furvives . VOL . VI . D Through Through deep Savannahs wild and vast , Unheard , unknown ( 49 )
... ' hiftorian and the bard . By them the hero's generous rage Still warm in youth immortal lives ; And in their adamantine page Thy glory ftill furvives . VOL . VI . D Through Through deep Savannahs wild and vast , Unheard , unknown ( 49 )
Страница 57
... youth . Too oft we fatiate on th ' applause we pay To rifing Merit , and resume the Crown ; Full many a blooming genius , fnatch'd away , Has fallen lamented who had liv'd unknown . For hard the task , O Villiers , to sustain Th ...
... youth . Too oft we fatiate on th ' applause we pay To rifing Merit , and resume the Crown ; Full many a blooming genius , fnatch'd away , Has fallen lamented who had liv'd unknown . For hard the task , O Villiers , to sustain Th ...
Страница 58
... Youth , ' tis true ; the fofter arts , YES , The sweetly - founding string , and pencil's pow'r , Have warm'd to rapture even heroic hearts , And taught the rude to wonder , and adore . For For Beauty charms us , whether she appears In ...
... Youth , ' tis true ; the fofter arts , YES , The sweetly - founding string , and pencil's pow'r , Have warm'd to rapture even heroic hearts , And taught the rude to wonder , and adore . For For Beauty charms us , whether she appears In ...
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bard beauty behold beneath beſt beſtow bleffings bleft boaſt bofom breaſt charms Chlorinda cloſe diftant eaſe Ev'n facred fafe fage fair fame fate feat fenfe fhade fhall fhew fhine fide figh filent fince firſt flow'rs fmile foft folar folemn fome fong fons foul fpring freſh friendſhip ftate ftill fuch fure fweet genius glory Goddeſs grace grove gueſt hand heart heav'n himſelf inſpires juſt laſt lefs loft lyre mind moſt Mufe muft Muſe muſt Naiads ne'er numbers Nymphs o'er paffion peace plain pleas'd pleaſe pleaſure pow'r praiſe purſue raiſe reft reſt rife rofe ſcene ſhade ſhall ſhe ſhould ſky ſmile ſome ſpeak ſpirit ſpread ſtand ſtate ſteps ſtill ſtood ſtrains ſtream ſtrong ſweet taſk taſte thee theſe thofe thoſe thou thouſand toil truth vale virtue Whilft whofe Whoſe wife wings Wiſdom youth
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Страница 391 - On a rock, whose haughty brow Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood, Robed in the sable garb of woe, With haggard eyes the Poet stood ; Loose his beard, and hoary hair Stream'd, like a meteor, to the troubled air And, with a Master's hand, and Prophet's fire, Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre.
Страница 397 - That lost in long futurity expire. Fond impious man, think'st thou yon sanguine cloud Raised by thy breath, has quench'd the orb of day? To-morrow he repairs the golden flood And warms the nations with redoubled ray. Enough for me : with joy I see The different doom our fates assign : Be thine Despair and sceptred Care, To triumph and to die are mine.
Страница 392 - Far, far aloof th' affrighted ravens sail ; The famish'd eagle screams, and passes by. Dear lost companions of my tuneful art, Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes, Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, Ye died amidst your dying country's cries — No more I weep. They do not sleep. On yonder cliffs, a...
Страница 392 - Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, Ye died amidst your dying country's cries — No more I weep : they do not sleep ! On yonder cliffs, a grisly band, I see them sit; they linger yet Avengers of their native land : With me in dreadful harmony they join, And weave with bloody hands the tissue of thy line.
Страница 389 - Closed his eyes in endless night. Behold where Dryden's less presumptuous car Wide o'er the fields of Glory bear Two coursers of ethereal race, With necks in thunder clothed, and long-resounding pace Hark, his hands the lyre explore! Bright-eyed Fancy, hovering o'er, Scatters from her pictured urn Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn. But ah ! 'tis heard no more — Oh ! Lyre divine, what daring Spirit Wakes thee now ! Tho...
Страница 392 - With me in dreadful harmony they join, And weave with bloody hands the tissue of thy line. II. 1 'Weave the warp and weave the woof, The winding-sheet of Edward's race; Give ample room and verge enough The characters of hell to trace...
Страница 393 - 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 385 - 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 389 - Yet shall he mount, and keep his distant way Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate ; Beneath the good how far — but far above the great ! ODE VI.
Страница 388 - 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...