PoemsJ. Wilkie, T. Payne, A. Edwards, W. Frederick, J. Woodyer, and J. Pote, 1776 - 163 pages |
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ancient Greece ARIMANT arms baſe beaſt Behold bend blaft blaſted bleffing bleft bow'd CHRISTOPHER ANSTEY climes courſe dark darts diftant earth Epicurus eternal ETON COLLEGE facred faid faithful fame favage fave fcene feen fhall fhines fhore fide fighs filent fink fire firft firſt flain flames fleep foar focial foft fome fong fons foon foreft foul fpirit froft ftands fteps ftill ftorms ftrains ftream fweet God's hand heart heaven hills hour King LAERT Latian lawleſs loft Lord lov'd Lucretius mighty monarch Mufe Muſe ne'er numbers nymph o'er pain peace peaſant pleaſe praiſe prayer Preferve rage rais'd reft reign rife roaring round rude ſcenes ſhall ſkies ſky ſpace ſpread ſtands ſtill ſweet TAMIRA tear thee thefe theſe thine thofe thoſe thouſand thro throne univerfal vaft vales virgin voice Waft waves weep whofe whoſe winding Yamodin youth
Popular passages
Page 2 - Then flew one of the seraphim unto me, having a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with the tongs from off the altar: And he laid it upon my mouth and said, Lo, this hath touched thy lips; and thine iniquity is taken away, and thy sin purged.
Page 125 - If still the curse of penury we feel, And in the midst of plenty pine away ? In every port the vessel rides secure...
Page 122 - And oft, with pleas'd attention, fat to hear The little hiftory of their idle day. But ah ! how chang'd the fcene ! On the cold ftones Where wont at night to blaze the chearful fire...
Page 120 - CHATHAM, nurs'd in ancient virtue's lore, To thefe fad ftrains incline a favouring ear ; Think on the GOD, whom Thou, and I adore, Nor turn unpitying from the Poor Man's Prayer. Ah me ! how...
Page 162 - Yet think not, I will deign to flatter thee ; Shall he, the guardian of thy faith and truth, The guide, the pilot of thy tender years, Teach thy young heart to feel a fpurious glow Atundeferved praife?
Page 125 - Sent dearth and famine to her lab'ring fwains ? Ah, no ; yon hill, where daily fweats my brow, A thoufand flocks, a thoufand herds adorn ; Yon field, where late I drove the painful plough, Feels all her acres crown'd with wavy corn. But what avails, that o'er the furrow'd foil In autumn's heat the yellow harvefts rife, If artificial want elude my toil, Untafted plenty wound my craving eyes ? What profits...
Page 120 - To gild her worth I afk'd no wealthy power, My toil could feed her, and my arm defend ;; In youth,, or age, in pain^ or pleafure's hour, The fame fond hufband, father, brother, friend. And...
Page 57 - ... Him subdued, Legions of spirits accursed their mangled prey Reluctant quitted, and with horrid yell Howl'd hideous ; touch'd by Him, the palsied hand, Long wither'd, felt his genial warmth return, Circling thro' every vein. He spake, and straight From the thick film was purg'd the visual ray. Awed by His potent word, the grave op'd wide His marble jaws, and yielded back to life His putrid dead. But what could all avail ? Insulted, scorn'd, betray'd by those He lov'd, He fell. Yet bleeding on...
Page 123 - And arm'd'with cruel law's coercive power Bids me and mine o'er barren mountains roam. Yet never, Chatham, have I pafs'da day In riot's orgies or in idle eafe ; Ne'er have I facrific'd to fport and play, Or wifh'da pamper'd appetite to pleafe.