Poems. By William Mason, M.A.: Containing, Odes, Elegies, Dramatic Pieces, &c. To this Dublin Edition are Added, I. Isis: an Elegy. II. An Ode Performed at the Senate-house at Cambridge, at the Installation of His Grace the Duke of Newcastle, ... By the Same Author, Випуск 450

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Peter Wilson, and James Potts, 1764 - 252 стор.
 

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Сторінка 25 - mid thy trembling firings, Shall catch the rich melodious fpoil, And lightly brufh thee with their purple wings, To aid the zephyrs in their tuneful toil ; While others check each ruder gale, Expel rough Boreas from the fky, Nor let a breeze its heaving breath exhale, Save fuch as foftly pant, and panting die. Then, as thy fwelling accents rife, Fair Fancy, waking at the found, Shall paint bright vifions on her raptur'd eyes, And waft her fpirits to enchanted ground, To myrtle groves, Elyfian greens...
Сторінка 128 - Gaze on the solemn scene : behold yon oak, How stern he frowns, and with his broad brown arms Chills the pale plain beneath him : mark yon altar, The dark stream brawling round its rugged base, These cliffs, these yawning caverns, this wide circus, Skirted with unhewn stone : they awe my soul, As if the very Genius of the place Himself appear'd, and with terrific tread Stalk'd through his drear domain.
Сторінка 46 - Greece with firm majestic tread ! Such as when Athens saw thee fill her scene, When Sophocles thy choral Graces led : " Saw thy proud pall its purple length devolve ; Saw thee uplift the glitt'ring dagger high ; Ponder with fixed brow thy deep resolve, Prepar'd to strike, to triumph, and to die.
Сторінка 40 - Breathe from his artless reed one parting lay; A lay like this thy early Virtues claim, And this let voluntary Friendship pay.
Сторінка 11 - Is hung on high, to poison half mankind. All fame is foreign but of true desert, Plays round the head, but comes not to the heart...
Сторінка 161 - tis thus. CHORUS. We trust thou do'st not. CARACTACUS. Masters of Wisdom ! No : my soul confides In that all-healing and all-forming Power, Who on the radiant day when Time was born, Cast his broad eye upon the wild of ocean, And calm'd it with a glance : then plunging deep His mighty arm, pluck'd from its dark domain...
Сторінка 51 - Go, wifer ye, that flutter life away, Crown with the mantling juice the goblet high ; Weave the light dance, with feftive freedom gay, And live your moment, fince the next ye die ! Yet know, vain fcepticks, know, th...
Сторінка 28 - Yet nourifh ftill the lambent flame ; " Still ftrike thy blamelefs Lyre : " Led by the moral Mufe fecurely rove ; " And all the vernal fweets thy vacant Youth " Can cull from bufy Fancy's fairy grove, " O hang their foliage round the fane of Truth : " To arts like thefe devote thy tuneful toil, " And meet its fair reward in D'ARCY'S fmile.
Сторінка 101 - Summon'd to pass the spacious realms of time ; Their leader the Almighty. In that march Ah who may quit his post, when high in air The chos'n Archangel rides, whose right hand wields Th' imperial standard of Heav'n's providence, Which, dreadly sweeping through the vaulted sky, O'ershadows all creation ? ATHELWOLD.
Сторінка 176 - That on my soul doth lie some secret grief These looks perforce will tell : It is not fear, Druids, it is not fear that shakes me thus ; The great gods know it is not : Ye can never : For, what though wisdom lifts ye next those gods, Ye cannot, like to...

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