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acts appear arms bear beauty behold blood breaſt bright Cæſar Cato Cato's charms courſe death dreadful earth Enter eyes face fall fate father fear fields fight fire firſt flow force friends Georgic give gods grief grow hand head hear heart heaven hero himſelf Jove JUBA kind kings laſt length lies light live look LUCIA LUCIUS maid MARCIA MARCUS mighty moſt Muſe muſt nature never nymph o'er once Ovid paſſion pleaſing Poem Poet PORTIUS prince rage reſt riſe Roman Rome round ſays ſee SEMPRONIUS ſhall ſhe ſhould ſhow ſome ſon ſoul ſtand ſtill Story ſtreams ſubject ſuch ſword Syphax tears tell thee theſe thing thoſe thou thoughts thunder train turn verſe Virgil virtue voice Whilſt whole winds wonder woods young youth
Page 209 - Ten thousand thousand precious gifts My daily thanks employ ; Nor is the least a cheerful heart, That tastes those gifts with joy.
Page 285 - Here will I hold. If there's a Power above us, — And that there is, all Nature cries aloud Through all her works, — He must delight in virtue; And that which He delights in must be happy.
Page 285 - Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, This longing after immortality ? Or whence this secret dread and inward horror Of falling into...
Page 41 - Tis Britain's care to watch o'er Europe's fate, And hold in balance each contending state, To threaten bold presumptuous kings with war, And answer her afflicted neighbours pray'r.
Page 207 - To all my weak complaints and cries, Thy mercy lent an ear, Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learn'd To form themselves in pray'r. Unnumber'd comforts to my soul Thy tender care bestow'd, Before my infant heart conceiv'd From whom those comforts flow'd. When, in the slipp'ry paths of youth, With heedless steps, I ran, Thine arm, unseen, convey'd me safe, And led me up to man.
Page 145 - And each by turns his aking heart assails. As he thus ponders, he behind him spies His opening hounds, and now he hears their cries: A generous pack, or to maintain the chase, Or snuff the vapour from the scented grass.
Page 261 - Thus o'er the dying lamp th' unsteady flame Hangs quivering on a point, leaps off by fits, And falls again, as loth to quit its hold. — Thou must not go, my soul still hovers o'er thee, And can't get loose.
Page 267 - Remember, O my friends, the laws, the rights, The generous plan of power deliver'd down, From age to age, by your renown'd forefathers, (So dearly bought, the price of so much blood) O let it never perish in your hands ! But piously transmit it to your children.