Memoirs of Eminent Englishwomen, Том 3

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Сторінка 277 - Strung each his lyre, and tuned it high, That all the people of the sky Might know a poetess was born on earth; And then, if ever, mortal ears Had heard the music of the spheres.
Сторінка 277 - Art she had none, yet wanted none, For Nature did that want supply: So rich in treasures of her own, She might our boasted stores defy: Such noble vigour did her verse adorn That it seemed borrowed, where 'twas only born.
Сторінка 128 - Go, boy, and carve this passion on the bark Of yonder tree, which stands the sacred mark Of noble Sidney's birth...
Сторінка 276 - Thou tread'st, with seraphims, the vast abyss : Whatever happy region is thy place, Cease thy celestial song a little space ; Thou wilt have time enough for hymns divine, Since Heaven's eternal year is thine.
Сторінка 279 - Were all observed, as well as heavenly face. With such a peerless majesty she stands, As in that day she took the crown from sacred hands: Before a train of heroines was seen, In beauty foremost, as in rank, the queen.
Сторінка 56 - Claypole is (I trust in mercy) exercised with some perplexed thoughts. She sees her own vanity and carnal mind, bewailing it; she seeks after (as I hope also) that which will satisfy. And thus to be a seeker is to be of the best sect next to a finder; and such an one shall every faithful humble seeker be at the end. Happy seeker, happy finder!
Сторінка 78 - ... for she was a very faithful mirror, reflecting truly, though but dimly, his own glories upon him, so long as he was present; but she, that was nothing before his inspection gave her a fair figure, when he was removed, was only filled with a dark mist, and never could again take in any delightful object, nor return any shining representation.
Сторінка 276 - It did thro' all the mighty poets roll, Who Greek or Latin laurels wore, And was that Sappho last, which once it was before. If so, then cease thy flight, O heav'n-born mind! Thou hast no dross to purge from thy rich ore...
Сторінка 278 - Born to the spacious empire of the Nine, One would have thought she should have been content To manage well that mighty government ; But what can young ambitious souls confine ? To the next realm she stretched her sway, For Painture near adjoining lay, A plenteous province and alluring prey.
Сторінка 374 - Invoking art to nature's aid; Forsook by her admiring train She spreads her tatter'd nets in vain; Short was her part upon the stage; Went smoothly on for half a page; Her bloom was gone, she wanted art, As the scene chang'd, to change her part: She, whom no lover could resist, Before the second act was hiss'd.

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