Elegant Extracts: Book V. Pindaric, Horatian, and other odes ; Book VI. Elegiac and funereal, including monodies and epitaphsWells and Lilly, 1826 |
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... Dear lost companions of my tuneful art , Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes , Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart , Ye died amidst your dying country's cries- No more I weep . They do not sleep . On yonder cliffs a ...
... Dear lost companions of my tuneful art , Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes , Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart , Ye died amidst your dying country's cries- No more I weep . They do not sleep . On yonder cliffs a ...
Сторінка 18
... dear . Yet nobler paths for some remain , - By hallow'd footsteps only trod ; And these shall seek the sacred fane , And give their studious hours to God . Hark ! while th ' inspiring diction flows , Each breast with holy rapture glows ...
... dear . Yet nobler paths for some remain , - By hallow'd footsteps only trod ; And these shall seek the sacred fane , And give their studious hours to God . Hark ! while th ' inspiring diction flows , Each breast with holy rapture glows ...
Сторінка 88
... dear , My hands adorn'd the mournful bier Of her I lov'd so well ; What , when mute sorrow chain'd my tongue , As o'er the sable hearse I hung , Forbade the tide to swell ? " Twas Patience ! -goddess ever calm ! Oh pour into my breast ...
... dear , My hands adorn'd the mournful bier Of her I lov'd so well ; What , when mute sorrow chain'd my tongue , As o'er the sable hearse I hung , Forbade the tide to swell ? " Twas Patience ! -goddess ever calm ! Oh pour into my breast ...
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... Dear to her soul the gifts of Heaven , The sweet domestic ties . Frances Sheridan . TO CONTENT . THOU , the nymph with placid eye ! O seldom found , yet ever nigh ! Receive my temperate vow : Not all the storms that shake the pole Can e ...
... Dear to her soul the gifts of Heaven , The sweet domestic ties . Frances Sheridan . TO CONTENT . THOU , the nymph with placid eye ! O seldom found , yet ever nigh ! Receive my temperate vow : Not all the storms that shake the pole Can e ...
Сторінка 94
... Or , where the unsunn'd treasures sleep , Sit brooding o'er thy cave in grim repose , [ woes . ' There mock at human joys , there mock at human Years away ! too dear I prize Fancy's haunts , 94 BOOK V. ELEGANT EXTRACTS : To Youth Lovibond.
... Or , where the unsunn'd treasures sleep , Sit brooding o'er thy cave in grim repose , [ woes . ' There mock at human joys , there mock at human Years away ! too dear I prize Fancy's haunts , 94 BOOK V. ELEGANT EXTRACTS : To Youth Lovibond.
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ANTISTROPHE beauty behold beneath bless'd bliss bloom blow bosom bowers breast breath charms cherub crown'd dear death delight divine dust E'en EDMUND DUKE ELEGY ELIJAH FENTON EPITAPH Eurydice Ev'n fair fame Fancy fate fear flowers fond FRANCIS ATTERBURY Francis Beaumont gloom glow goddess grace grave grief grove hallow'd hand hear heart Heav'n honour hour JAMES QUIN Joseph Warton joys light lov'd lyre maid MICHAEL DRAYTON mind MONODY mourn Muse Nature's ne'er night nymph o'er pain pale peace pensive pity pleasure poison'd Pope pow'r pride rais'd rill round sacred scene shade shine sigh sleep smiles soft solemn song sooth sorrow soul sound stream sweet tear tender thee thine Thomas Warton thou toil tomb tongue train trembling truth Twas vale virtue Virtue's voice waking eyes Warton wave weeping wild wing yonder youth
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Сторінка 145 - E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of the unhonored 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 56 - Hard by, a cottage chimney smokes From betwixt two aged oaks, Where Corydon and Thyrsis met, Are at their savoury dinner set Of herbs, and other country messes, Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses, And then in haste her bower she leaves, With Thestylis to bind the sheaves; Or, if the earlier season lead, To the tann'd haycock in the mead.
Сторінка 61 - Pelops' line, Or the tale of Troy divine, Or what (though rare) of later age Ennobled hath the buskined stage. But, O sad virgin, that thy power Might raise Musaeus from his bower! Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing Such notes as, warbled to the string, Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, And made Hell grant what love did seek...
Сторінка 144 - Th' applause of list'ning senates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to despise, To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, And read their history in a nation's eyes...
Сторінка 137 - Where low-browed baseness wafts perfume to pride. No! men, high-minded men, With powers as far above dull brutes endued In forest, brake, or den, As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude ; Men, who their duties know, But know their rights, and, knowing, dare maintain, Prevent the long-aimed blow, And crush the tyrant while they rend the chain : These constitute a State, And sovereign Law, that State's collected will O'er thrones and globes elate, Sits Empress, crowning good, repressing ill.
Сторінка 56 - When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn That ten day-labourers could not end; Then lies him down the lubber fiend, And, stretched out all the chimney's length, Basks at the fire his hairy strength, And crop-full out of doors he flings, Ere the first cock his matin rings.
Сторінка 144 - Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys, and destiny obscure; Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the poor. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave. Await alike the inevitable hour: The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Сторінка 110 - Every thing did banish moan, Save the nightingale alone : She, poor bird, as all forlorn, Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn, And there sung the dolefull'st ditty, That to hear it was great pity :
Сторінка 250 - To fair Fidele's grassy tomb Soft maids and village hinds shall bring Each opening sweet of earliest bloom, And rifle all the breathing spring. No wailing ghost shall dare appear To vex with shrieks this quiet grove: But shepherd lads assemble here, And melting virgins own their love. No...
Сторінка 60 - And missing thee, I walk unseen On the dry smooth-shaven green. To behold the wandering moon, Riding near her highest noon. Like one that had been led astray Through the heaven's wide pathless way, And oft, as if her head she bowed, Stooping through a fleecy cloud.