The Poetical Works of Johnson, Parnell, Gray, and SmollettJ. Nichol, 1855 - 254 стор. |
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... Rise of Woman 93 An Elegy to an Old Beauty Song 101 The Book - Worm • · Song 101 An Allegory on Man Song 102 An Imitation of some French • Anacreontic 103 Verses Anacreontic 105 A Night - Piece on Death A Fairy Tale , in the Ancient Eng ...
... Rise of Woman 93 An Elegy to an Old Beauty Song 101 The Book - Worm • · Song 101 An Allegory on Man Song 102 An Imitation of some French • Anacreontic 103 Verses Anacreontic 105 A Night - Piece on Death A Fairy Tale , in the Ancient Eng ...
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... convey , Or bribe a virgin's innocence away . 60 70 ' Pirates : the piracies of the Spaniards were openly defended in Parlia- ment . - Gazetteer : ' the then ministerial paper . Well may they rise , while I , whose rustic LONDON . 19.
... convey , Or bribe a virgin's innocence away . 60 70 ' Pirates : the piracies of the Spaniards were openly defended in Parlia- ment . - Gazetteer : ' the then ministerial paper . Well may they rise , while I , whose rustic LONDON . 19.
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Samuel Johnson George Gilfillan. Well may they rise , while I , whose rustic tongue Ne'er knew to puzzle right , or varnish wrong , Spurn'd as a beggar , dreaded as a spy , Live unregarded , unlamented die . For what but social guilt the ...
Samuel Johnson George Gilfillan. Well may they rise , while I , whose rustic tongue Ne'er knew to puzzle right , or varnish wrong , Spurn'd as a beggar , dreaded as a spy , Live unregarded , unlamented die . For what but social guilt the ...
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... rise , the happy seats explore , And bear Oppression's insolence no more . This mournful truth is every where confess'd , SLOW RISES WORTH , BY POVERTY DEPRESS'D : 146 150 160 170 Unclaimed by Spain : ' Spain was said then to be ...
... rise , the happy seats explore , And bear Oppression's insolence no more . This mournful truth is every where confess'd , SLOW RISES WORTH , BY POVERTY DEPRESS'D : 146 150 160 170 Unclaimed by Spain : ' Spain was said then to be ...
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... rise . Let history tell , where rival kings command , And dubious title shakes the madded land , When statutes glean the refuse of the sword , How much more safe the vassal than the lord : Low skulks the hind beneath the reach of power ...
... rise . Let history tell , where rival kings command , And dubious title shakes the madded land , When statutes glean the refuse of the sword , How much more safe the vassal than the lord : Low skulks the hind beneath the reach of power ...
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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.