Silver Poets of the Eighteenth CenturyArthur Pollard Dent, 1976 - 274 стор. |
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Сторінка 17
... Head : They call'd for Tea and Chocolate , And fell into their usual Chat , Discoursing with important Face , On Ribbons , Fans , and Gloves and Lace ; Shew'd Patterns just from India brought , And gravely ask'd her what she thought ...
... Head : They call'd for Tea and Chocolate , And fell into their usual Chat , Discoursing with important Face , On Ribbons , Fans , and Gloves and Lace ; Shew'd Patterns just from India brought , And gravely ask'd her what she thought ...
Сторінка 50
... Head , I saw the Graves give up their Dead . Jove , arm'd with Terrors , burst the Skies , And Thunder roars , and Light'ning flies ! Amaz'd , confus'd , its Fate unknown , The World stands trembling at his Throne . While each pale ...
... Head , I saw the Graves give up their Dead . Jove , arm'd with Terrors , burst the Skies , And Thunder roars , and Light'ning flies ! Amaz'd , confus'd , its Fate unknown , The World stands trembling at his Throne . While each pale ...
Сторінка 161
... head , yes , yes , I have a head . 35 How piercing is that eye ! How sleek that brow ! My horns ! I'm told horns are the fashion now . ' Whilst thus he spoke , astonish'd ! to his view , Near , and more near , the hounds and huntsmen ...
... head , yes , yes , I have a head . 35 How piercing is that eye ! How sleek that brow ! My horns ! I'm told horns are the fashion now . ' Whilst thus he spoke , astonish'd ! to his view , Near , and more near , the hounds and huntsmen ...
Зміст
A Description of the Morning | 8 |
Horace Lib 2 Sat 6 | 28 |
A Satirical Elegy on the Death | 34 |
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Antistrophe Bard Baucis and Philemon bless blest bliss breast Cadenus call'd charms chearful Circassia Collins cou'd Covent Garden Dean Death delight divine drest Dunciad ECLOGUE Edward III Eirin Esther Vanhomrigh Eton College Ev'n ev'ry eyes fair Fame Fancy Fate Fear fire fix'd Flow'rs Foes Folly Friend Goddess grace Gray Grief Grove Hand hear heart Heav'n honour hope hour Johnson Jonathan Swift King land Lord lov'd Love lyre Maid Mind Muse ne'er never Night Numbers Nymph o'er pain Passions Peace PINDARIC Pity plain pleasure poem Poet poetry Pow'r praise Pride Queen rage reign rise round satire Scene Shade shew sigh skies smiling Song sorrow soul Spring Stoke Poges STOOPS TO CONQUER Swain sweet Swift tear thee thine thou thought thro Toil Twas Vale Vanessa Verses Virtue voice wealth weep wild wou'd Youth ΙΟ