The Poetical Works of Johnson, Parnell, Gray, and SmollettJ. Nichol, 1855 - 254 стор. |
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Сторінка 18
... cries , in these degenerate days , Wants e'en the cheap reward of empty praise ; In those cursed walls , devote to vice and gain , Since unrewarded science toils in vain ; Since hope but soothes to double my distress , And every moment ...
... cries , in these degenerate days , Wants e'en the cheap reward of empty praise ; In those cursed walls , devote to vice and gain , Since unrewarded science toils in vain ; Since hope but soothes to double my distress , And every moment ...
Сторінка 23
... cries Roll through the streets , and thunder to the skies : Raised from some pleasing dream of wealth and power , Some pompous palace , or some blissful bower , Aghast you start , and scarce with aching sight Sustain the approaching ...
... cries Roll through the streets , and thunder to the skies : Raised from some pleasing dream of wealth and power , Some pompous palace , or some blissful bower , Aghast you start , and scarce with aching sight Sustain the approaching ...
Сторінка 31
... cries , ' till nought remain , On Moscow's walls till Gothic standards fly , And all be mine beneath the polar sky . ' The march begins in military state , And nations on his eye suspended wait ; Stern Famine guards the solitary coast ...
... cries , ' till nought remain , On Moscow's walls till Gothic standards fly , And all be mine beneath the polar sky . ' The march begins in military state , And nations on his eye suspended wait ; Stern Famine guards the solitary coast ...
Сторінка 36
... cries invoke the mercies of the skies ? Inquirer , cease ! petitions yet remain , Which Heaven may hear , nor deem Religion vain . Still raise for good the supplicating voice , But leave to Heaven the measure and the choice ; Safe in ...
... cries invoke the mercies of the skies ? Inquirer , cease ! petitions yet remain , Which Heaven may hear , nor deem Religion vain . Still raise for good the supplicating voice , But leave to Heaven the measure and the choice ; Safe in ...
Сторінка 41
... cries , ' Lies at my feet ; I hiss him , and he dies . ' The great , ' tis true , can charm the electing tribe , The bard may supplicate , but cannot bribe . Yet , judged by those whose voices ne'er were sold , He feels no want of ill ...
... cries , ' Lies at my feet ; I hiss him , and he dies . ' The great , ' tis true , can charm the electing tribe , The bard may supplicate , but cannot bribe . Yet , judged by those whose voices ne'er were sold , He feels no want of ill ...
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Æsop Anacreon ancient ANTISTROPHE bard beauty beneath blushes bosom breast breathe business bend call'd charms CLAUDE PHILLIPS COLLEY CIBBER Comus cries dart death delight dread dress'd e'er ease Elegy Eton College eyes Faeries fair fame fate fear fire fix'd flies flowers genius gentle George Ashe glittering gold grace grave Gray grove hand head heart Hesiod honour Johnson Jove king lady lazy lakes Lord mind Mirth Muse never night numbers nymph o'er Odin once Ovid pain Parnell passion peace plain pleasure poems poet poetry Pope praise Preluding music pride rage reign rise round rove sacred scene scorn Scriblerus Club shade shine sighs sing smiles soft song soul Stella swains sweet tear thee thine THOMAS PARNELL thou thought toil tongue toy'd tread Twas vale verse virtue voice wind wing youth
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Сторінка 159 - A stranger yet to pain ! I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wing, My weary soul they seem to soothe, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring.
Сторінка 166 - Say, Father Thames, for thou hast seen Full many a sprightly race Disporting on thy margent green The paths of pleasure trace ; Who foremost now delight to cleave With pliant arm, thy glassy wave...
Сторінка 162 - Where'er the oak's thick branches stretch A broader, browner shade, Where'er the rude and moss-grown beech O'er-canopies the glade, Beside some water's rushy brink With me the Muse shall sit, and think (At ease...
Сторінка 178 - 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.
Сторінка 167 - Alas ! regardless of their doom, The little victims play: No sense have they of ills to come, Nor care beyond to-day.
Сторінка 205 - One morn I missed him on the 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 churchway path we saw him borne, — Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Сторінка 205 - He gained from heaven ('twas all he wished) a friend. No farther seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (There they alike in trembling hope repose) The bosom of his father and his God.
Сторінка 204 - E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely Contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, — Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn...
Сторінка 163 - But flutter through life's little day, In Fortune's varying colours drest, Brush'd by the hand of rough mischance, Or chill'd by age, their airy dance They leave, in dust to rest. Methinks I hear in accents low The sportive, kind reply : Poor moralist ! and what art thou ? A solitary fly ! Thy joys no glittering female meets, No hive hast thou of hoarded sweets, No painted plumage to display : On hasty wings thy youth is flown ; Thy sun is set, thy spring is gone — We frolic, while 'tis May.
Сторінка 167 - Gainst graver hours that bring constraint To sweeten liberty : Some bold adventurers disdain The limits of their little reign, And unknown regions dare descry : Still as they run they look behind, They hear a voice in every wind, And snatch a fearful joy.