A Collection of Poems: In Six Volumes, Volumen6J. Hughs, 1765 |
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Página 55
... last records of Fate , O'er the shrunk terrace wave their baleful boughs , Or breathe in storied emblems of the great ; Yet not with heedlefs eye will we furvey The scene though chang'd , nor negligently tread ; These variegated walks ...
... last records of Fate , O'er the shrunk terrace wave their baleful boughs , Or breathe in storied emblems of the great ; Yet not with heedlefs eye will we furvey The scene though chang'd , nor negligently tread ; These variegated walks ...
Página 63
... , and ignoble fpoils . Minturnæ's Marfh feverely paid at last The guilty glories gain'd in civil broils . The trophies of Marius , now erected before the Capitol . Nor Nor yet his vain contempt the Muse shall praise For ( 63 )
... , and ignoble fpoils . Minturnæ's Marfh feverely paid at last The guilty glories gain'd in civil broils . The trophies of Marius , now erected before the Capitol . Nor Nor yet his vain contempt the Muse shall praise For ( 63 )
Página 74
... last : GIA Wealth let us heap on wealth , or fame purfuc , E Let pow'r and glory be our points in view ; } In courts , in camps , in fenates let us live , Our levees crowded like the buzzing hive : Each weak attempt the fame fad leffon ...
... last : GIA Wealth let us heap on wealth , or fame purfuc , E Let pow'r and glory be our points in view ; } In courts , in camps , in fenates let us live , Our levees crowded like the buzzing hive : Each weak attempt the fame fad leffon ...
Página 107
... last , Let us review , and recollect the whole . Thus ftands my argument- The thinking foul Cannot terrestrial , or material be , But claims by Nature Immortality : God , who created it , can make it end , We queftion not , but cannot ...
... last , Let us review , and recollect the whole . Thus ftands my argument- The thinking foul Cannot terrestrial , or material be , But claims by Nature Immortality : God , who created it , can make it end , We queftion not , but cannot ...
Página 117
... last faint gleamings of the twilight sky . Then wilt thou ftill thy penfive vot'ry meet , Oft as he calls thee to this gloomy seat : For here , with many a folemn mystic rite , Wert thou invok'd to confecrate the ground , Ere these rude ...
... last faint gleamings of the twilight sky . Then wilt thou ftill thy penfive vot'ry meet , Oft as he calls thee to this gloomy seat : For here , with many a folemn mystic rite , Wert thou invok'd to confecrate the ground , Ere these rude ...
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Términos y frases comunes
bard beauty behold beneath beſt bleffings bleft boaſt bofom breaſt cauſe charms Chlorinda diftant eaſe Ev'n facred fafe fage fair fame fate fcene feat fenfe fhade fhall fhew fhun figh filent fince firft firſt flow'rs fmile foft folar folemn fome fong fons foul freſh friendſhip ftands ftate ftill fuch fure fweet fwelling genius glory Goddeſs grace grove gueſt guife hand heart heav'n himſelf juft laſt Latian lefs loft lyre mind moſt Mufe muft Muſe muſt Naiads ne'er numbers Nymphs o'er paffion pain peace plain pleas'd pleaſe pleaſure pow'r praiſe purſue raiſe reft rife rofe ſcene ſhade ſhall ſhe ſhould ſky ſpeak ſpirit ſpread ſprings ſtate ſteps ſtill ſtrains ſtream ſweet taſk taſte thee thefe theſe thofe thoſe thou thouſand toil truth vale virtue Whilft whofe Whoſe wife wings wiſh youth
Pasajes populares
Página 387 - Hark, his hands the lyre explore ! Bright-eyed Fancy hovering o'er Scatters from her pidur'd urn Thoughts, that breathe, and words, that burn. But ah ! 'tis heard no more — Oh! Lyre divine, what daring Spirit Wakes thee now ? though he inherit Nor the pride, nor ample pinion, That the Theban Eagle bear Sailing with
Página 391 - Thy fon is gone. He refts among the Dead. " The Swarm, that in thy noon-tide beam were born, " Gone to falute the rifing Morn. " Fair laughs the Morn, and foft the Zephyr blows, " While proudly riding o'er the azure realm
Página 386 - This pencil take (fhe faid) whofe colours clear Richly paint the vernal year: Thine too thefe golden keys, immortal Boy ! This can unlock the gates of Joy ; Of Horrour that, and thrilling Fears, Or ope the facred fource of fympathetic Tears. III. 2.
Página 384 - II. i. Man's feeble race what Ills await, Labour, and Penury, the racks of Pain, Difeafe, and Sorrow's weeping train, And Death, fad refuge from the ftorms of Fate ! The fond complaint, my Song, difprove, And juftify the laws of Jove. Say, has he given in vain the heav'nly Mufe ? Night, and all her fickly dews, Her
Página 387 - tis heard no more — Oh! Lyre divine, what daring Spirit Wakes thee now ? though he inherit Nor the pride, nor ample pinion, That the Theban Eagle bear Sailing with fupreme dominion Through the azure deep of air: Yet oft before his infant eyes would run Such forms, as glitter in the Mufe's ray With orient hues, unborrow'd of the
Página 389 - (Loofe his beard, and hoary hair Stream'd, like a meteor, to the troubled air) And with a Matter's hand, and Prophet's fire, Struck the deep forrows of his lyre. * Hark, how each giant-oak, and defart cave, * Sighs to the torrent's
Página 390 - The characters of hell to trace. " Mark the year, and mark the night, " When Severn fhall re-echo with affright " The fhrieks of death, through Berkley's roofs that ring, " Shrieks of an agonizing King! " She-Wolf of France, with unrelenting fangs,
Página 382 - A WAKE, /Eolian lyre, awake, * And give to rapture all thy trembling firings. From Helicon's harmonious fprings A thoufand rills their mazy progrefs take: The laughing flowers, that round them blow, Drink life and fragrance as they flow. Now the ; rich ftream of mufic winds along Deep, majeftic, fmooth and ftrong, Through verdant vales, and Ceres' golden reign: Now rolling down the
Página 390 - they lie, * Smear'd with gore, and ghaftly pale: * Far, far aloof th' affrighted ravens fail; * The famifh'd Eagle fcreams, and paffes by. * Dear loft companions of my tuneful art, * Dear, as the light, that vifits thefe fad eyes, * Dear, as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, ' Ye died amidft your dying country's cries — ' No more I weep. They do not deep.
Página 391 - From thee be born, who o'er thy country hangs *' The fcourge of Heav'n. What Terrors round him wait! ** Amazement in his van, with Flight combin'd, " And Sorrow's faded form, and Solitude behind. II. 2. " Mighty Victor, mighty Lord, " Low on his funeral couch he lies ! " No pitying heart, no eye afford " A tear to grace his obfequies. »** Is the fable