Specimens of the British poets, 2. köideW. Suttaby, 1809 |
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Page 6
... flow the waves , the zephyrs gently play , Belinda smil'd , and all the world was gay . All but the sylph - with careful thoughts opprest , The ' impending woe sat heavy on his breast . He summons straight his denizens of air ; The ...
... flow the waves , the zephyrs gently play , Belinda smil'd , and all the world was gay . All but the sylph - with careful thoughts opprest , The ' impending woe sat heavy on his breast . He summons straight his denizens of air ; The ...
Page 17
... flow . Then see ! the nymph in beauteous grief appears , Her eyes half - languishing , half drown'd in tears ; On her heav'd bosom hung her drooping head , Which with a sigh she rais'd , and thus she said : ' For ever curs'd be this ...
... flow . Then see ! the nymph in beauteous grief appears , Her eyes half - languishing , half drown'd in tears ; On her heav'd bosom hung her drooping head , Which with a sigh she rais'd , and thus she said : ' For ever curs'd be this ...
Page 22
... tears for ages taught to flow in vain . Soon as thy letters trembling I unclose , That well - known name awakens all my woes . Oh name for ever sad ! for ever dear ! 22 ALEXANDER POPE . Eloisa to Abelard An Essay on Criticism 1.
... tears for ages taught to flow in vain . Soon as thy letters trembling I unclose , That well - known name awakens all my woes . Oh name for ever sad ! for ever dear ! 22 ALEXANDER POPE . Eloisa to Abelard An Essay on Criticism 1.
Page 26
... flow'r , and darkens every green , Deepens the murmur of the falling floods , And breathes a browner horror on the woods . Yet here for ever , ever must I stay ; Sad proof how well a lover can obey ! Death , only death , can break the ...
... flow'r , and darkens every green , Deepens the murmur of the falling floods , And breathes a browner horror on the woods . Yet here for ever , ever must I stay ; Sad proof how well a lover can obey ! Death , only death , can break the ...
Page 28
... flow ; Soft as the slumbers of a saint forgiv'n , And mild as opening gleams of promis'd heav'n .. Come , Abelard ! for what hast thou to dread ? The torch of Venus burns not for the dead . Nature stands check'd ; Religion disapproves ...
... flow ; Soft as the slumbers of a saint forgiv'n , And mild as opening gleams of promis'd heav'n .. Come , Abelard ! for what hast thou to dread ? The torch of Venus burns not for the dead . Nature stands check'd ; Religion disapproves ...
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Common terms and phrases
beauty behold beneath blest bliss bloom bosom breast breath bright charms cheerful dear death delight dread dreams dydd e'er ECLOGUE Eurydice Ev'n ev'ry eyes fair fame Fancy fate fear flowers fond gentle glow golden reign grace grief groves hand hear heart Heav'n hour JOHN HENRY MOORE lord lov'd lyre maid maze of Fate mind MONODY morn mournful Muse Nature's ne'er night numbers nymph o'er pain pale peace pensive Petrarch pity pleas'd pleasure pow'r praise pray'r pride proud rage raptures reign rills rise round sacred scene scorn shade shine sighs sing skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound sprite strain sweet sweet oblivion sylphs tear tender Thalestris thee thine thou thought thro toil trembling Twas vale virtue wave weep wild wind wings wretch wyfe wylle wythe ynne youth
Popular passages
Page 192 - A stranger yet to pain! I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wing My weary soul they seem to soothe, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring.
Page 325 - I forget the hallow'd grove, Where by the winding Ayr we met, To live one day of parting love? Eternity will not efface Those records dear of transports past; Thy image at our last embrace; Ah ! little thought we 'twas our last ! Ayr gurgling kiss'd his pebbled shore, O'erhung with wild woods, thick'ning green; The fragrant birch, and hawthorn hoar, Twined amorous round the raptured scene.
Page 239 - And thou, sweet Poetry, thou loveliest maid, Still first to fly where sensual joys invade ; Unfit in these degenerate times of shame To catch the heart, or strike for honest fame ; Dear charming nymph, neglected and decried, My shame in crowds, my solitary pride ; Thou source of all my bliss, and all my woe, That found'st me poor at first, and keep'st me so...
Page 15 - Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows ; But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar: When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, The line too labours, and the words move slow : Not so, when swift Camilla scours the plain, Flies o'er the unbending corn, and skims along the main. Hear how Timotheus...
Page 14 - In words, as fashions, the same rule will hold; Alike fantastic, if too new, or old: Be not the first by whom the new are tried, Nor yet the last to lay the old aside.
Page 189 - Await alike th' inevitable hour. The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, If memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Can storied urn, or animated bust, Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can...
Page 239 - tis hard to combat, learns to fly! For him no wretches, born to work and weep, Explore the mine, or tempt the dangerous deep...
Page 188 - THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Page 221 - Condemn'da needy supplicant to wait, While ladies interpose, and slaves debate. But did not Chance at length her error mend? Did no subverted empire mark his end? Did rival monarchs give the fatal wound? Or hostile millions press him to the ground? His fall was destin'd to a barren strand, A petty fortress, and a dubious hand; He left the name, at which the world grew pale, To point a moral, or adorn a tale.
Page 316 - My lov'd, my honour'd, much respected friend! No mercenary bard his homage pays; With honest pride, I scorn each selfish end, My dearest meed, a friend's esteem and praise: To you I sing, in simple Scottish lays, The lowly train in life's sequester'd scene, The native feelings strong, the guileless ways, What Aiken in a cottage would have been; Ah! tho' his worth unknown, far happier there I ween! November chill blaws loud wi...