The Works of the English Poets: With Prefaces, Biographical and Critical, 23–25. köide

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Samuel Johnson
C. Bathurst, 1779

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Page 314 - ... there is all Nature cries aloud Through all her works). He must delight in virtue ; And that which He delights in must be happy. But when ? or where ? This world was made for Caesar — I'm weary of conjectures — this must end them.
Page 313 - The wide, the unbounded prospect lies before me : But shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon it. 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 215 - Though in a bare and rugged way, Through devious, lonely wilds I stray, Thy bounty shall my pains beguile : The barren wilderness shall smile, With sudden greens and herbage crowned, And streams shall murmur all around...
Page 211 - Ten thousand thousand precious gifts My daily thanks employ ; Nor is the least a cheerful heart, That tastes those gifts with joy.
Page 33 - Through pathless fields, and unfrequented floods, To dens of dragons and enchanted woods. But now the mystic tale, that pleased of yore, Can charm an understanding age no more; The long-spun allegories fulsome grow, While the dull moral lies too plain below.
Page 43 - 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 258 - Which of the two to choose, slavery or death ? No ; let us rise at once, gird on our swords, And at the head of our remaining troops, Attack the foe, break through the thick array Of his throng'd legions, and charge home upon him.
Page 98 - Not the red arm of angry Jove, That flings the thunder from the sky, And gives it rage to roar, and strength to fly. Should the whole frame of nature round him break, In ruin, and confusion hurl'd, He, unconcern'd would hear the mighty crack, And stand secure, amidst a falling world.
Page 150 - Preserves the beauteous youth from being seen, No mountains rise, nor oceans flow between. A shallow water hinders my embrace ; And yet the lovely mimic wears a face That kindly smiles, and when I bend to join My lips to his, he fondly bends to mine. Hear, gentle youth, and pity my complaint, Come from thy well, thou fair inhabitant. My charms an easy conquest have obtain'd O'er other hearts, by thee alone disdain'd. But why should I despair ? I'm sure he burns With equal flames, and languishes by...
Page 209 - To all my weak Complaints and Cries Thy Mercy lent an Ear, Ere yet my feeble Thoughts had learnt 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...

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