Poetical WorksPrinted at the Stanhope Press by C. Whittingham, 1808 |
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Сторінка 6
... , profusely shown In damning crowds of souls , may damn their own ; I'll err at least on the securer side , A convert free from malice and from pride . FROM ADDISON'S ACCOUNT OF THE ENGLISH POETS . BUT see 6 ENCOMIUMS ON DRYDEN .
... , profusely shown In damning crowds of souls , may damn their own ; I'll err at least on the securer side , A convert free from malice and from pride . FROM ADDISON'S ACCOUNT OF THE ENGLISH POETS . BUT see 6 ENCOMIUMS ON DRYDEN .
Сторінка 25
... crowds on Dover's strand , Who , in their haste to welcome you to land , Chok'd up the beach with their still - growing store , And made a wilder torrent on the shore ; While , spurr'd with eager thoughts of past delight , Those who had ...
... crowds on Dover's strand , Who , in their haste to welcome you to land , Chok'd up the beach with their still - growing store , And made a wilder torrent on the shore ; While , spurr'd with eager thoughts of past delight , Those who had ...
Сторінка 85
... , and the poor grow proud ; Those offer mighty gain , and these ask more ; So void of pity is the ' ignoble crowd , When others ' ruin may increase their store . As those who live by shores with joy behold Some ANNUS MIRABILIS . 85.
... , and the poor grow proud ; Those offer mighty gain , and these ask more ; So void of pity is the ' ignoble crowd , When others ' ruin may increase their store . As those who live by shores with joy behold Some ANNUS MIRABILIS . 85.
Сторінка 131
... crowds unlearn'd , with rude devotion warm , About the sacred viands buz and swarm , The fly - blown text creates a crawling brood , And turns to maggots what was meant for food . A thousand daily sects rise up and die ; A thousand more ...
... crowds unlearn'd , with rude devotion warm , About the sacred viands buz and swarm , The fly - blown text creates a crawling brood , And turns to maggots what was meant for food . A thousand daily sects rise up and die ; A thousand more ...
Сторінка 136
... crowd Of armed prayers Knock'd at the gates of Heav'n , and knock'd aloud ; The first well - meaning rude petitioners All for his life assail'd the throne , All would have brib'd the Skies by offering up their own . So great a throng ...
... crowd Of armed prayers Knock'd at the gates of Heav'n , and knock'd aloud ; The first well - meaning rude petitioners All for his life assail'd the throne , All would have brib'd the Skies by offering up their own . So great a throng ...
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Absalom ABSALOM AND ACHITOPHEL Achitophel Arius arms arts Behold Belgian blessing blest blood bold breast call'd cause church conscience crimes crowd crown dare David's defence design'd divine DRYDEN e'en Eliab ephod eyes faction faith fame fate father fear fight fire flames fleet foes forc'd friends grace hast Heav'n Heaven's Hebron Hind honour hope Ishbosheth Israel Jebusites Jews JOHN DRYDEN kind King labour land laws Lord mercy mighty monarchs Muse ne'er never numbers o'er once Ovid Panther Papists peace Phaleg plain plot Poem pow'r praise pretend prey pride prince promis'd rage rais'd reason rebel reign religion rest rhymes rise royal ruin sacred sanhedrims satire Scripture sects sedition seem'd sense Shadwell Shimei shore soul sovereign stand sure sway thee thou thought throne Tis true toil truth twas Uzza verse vex'd virtue wind wise words youth
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Сторінка 27 - Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking, Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking. Blest madman, who could every hour employ With something new to wish or to enjoy...
Сторінка 111 - My thoughtless youth was wing'd with vain desires, My manhood, long misled by wandering fires, Follow'd false lights, and, when their glimpse was gone, My pride struck out new sparkles of her own. Such was I, such by nature still I am ; Be thine the glory, and be mine the shame. Good life be now my task : my doubts are done ; What more could fright my faith than Three in One...
Сторінка 110 - Tis true she bounded by and tripped so light, They had not time to take a steady sight ; For truth has such a face and such a mien As to be loved needs only to be seen.
Сторінка 16 - He sought the storms ; but for a calm unfit, Would steer too nigh the sands to boast his wit. Great wits are sure to madness near allied, And thin partitions do their bounds divide...
Сторінка 16 - Got, while his soul did huddled notions try, And born a shapeless lump, like anarchy ; In friendship false, implacable in hate, Resolv'd to ruin or to rule the State; To compass this the triple bond he broke; The pillars of the public safety shook, And fitted Israel for a foreign yoke; Then, seiz'd with fear, yet still affecting fame, Usurp'da Patriot's all-atoning name.
Сторінка 41 - ... fancy, or the variation, driving or moulding of that thought, as the judgment represents it proper to the subject; the third is Elocution, or the Art of clothing and adorning that thought so found and varied, in apt, significant and sounding words: the quickness of the Imagination is seen in the Invention, the fertility in the Fancy, and the accuracy in the Expression.
Сторінка 9 - Thro' the azure deep of air : Yet oft before his infant eyes would run Such forms as glitter in the Muse's ray, With orient hues, unborrow'd of the sun : 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. THE BARD. A Pindaric Ode. I. i. seize thee, ruthless King ! Confusion on thy banners wait ; Tho' fann'd by Conquest's crimson wing, They mock the air with idle state.
Сторінка 111 - But, gracious God, how well dost thou provide For erring judgments an unerring guide! Thy throne is darkness in the abyss of light, A blaze of glory that forbids the sight. O teach me to believe thee thus conceal'd, And search no farther than thyself reveal'd; But her alone for my director take, Whom thou hast promised never to forsake!
Сторінка 40 - Gull'd with a patriot's name, whose modern sense Is one that would by law supplant his prince; The people's brave, the politician's tool; Never was patriot yet, but was a fool.
Сторінка 40 - The composition of all poems is, or ought to be, of wit; and wit in the poet, or Wit writing (if you will give me leave to use a school-distinction), is no other than the faculty of imagination in the writer, which, like a nimble spaniel, beats over and ranges through the field of memory, till it springs the quarry it hunted after; or, without metaphor, which searches over all...