arms beauty Behold blefs bleft breaſt bright C¿far Cato cauſe charms Columbo death defire Ev'n eyes facred fafe faid fair fame fate fatire fear fecret feems fenfe fhade fhall fhining fhould fhow fighs fight fince fing fire firſt fkies flain flame fleep fmiles foft fome fong foon forrow foul fpring ftand ftill ftreams fuch fure fweet glory goddeſs grace grief heart heaven himſelf honour infpire Jove Juba juft king laft laſt lefs loft Lord lov'd lyre maid moſt mufe muft muſt ne'er numbers nymph o'er Ovid paffion Pindar pleas'd pleaſe pleaſure praife praiſe prefent profe purſue rage rais'd raiſe reafon reft rife ſhall ſhe ſhow ſkies ſky ſpeak ſpread ſtand ſtate ſtill Syphax thee thefe theſe thine thofe thoſe thou thought thouſand verfe verſe virtue Whilft whofe whoſe youth
Page 5 - FAR in a wild, unknown to public view, From youth to age a reverend hermit grew ; The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell, His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well: Remote from man, with God he pass'd the days, Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise.
Page 295 - With flying fingers touched the lyre : The trembling notes ascend the sky, And heavenly joys inspire. The song began from Jove, Who left his blissful seats above, (Such is the power of mighty love.) A dragon's fiery form belied the god : Sublime on radiant spires he rode, When he to fair Olympia...
Page 310 - As may with sweetness, through mine ear, Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all Heaven before mine eyes. And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
Page 472 - ... or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern. Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it.
Page 211 - For though in dreadful whirls we hung High on the broken wave, I knew thou wert not slow to hear, Nor impotent to save.
Page 237 - 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 130 - Then to her new love let her go, And deck her in golden array, Be finest at...
Page 414 - To John I ow'd great obligation ; But John unhappily thought fit To publish it to all the nation : Sure John and I are more than quit.
Page 224 - 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.