The Works of Alexander Pope, Esq. ...: Translations and imitationsJ. and P. Knapton, 1751 |
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Page 21
... trembling ftring : My Phaon's fled , and I those arts resign ( Wretch that I am , to call that Phaon mine ! ) Return , fair youth , return , and bring along Joy to my foul , and vigour to my fong : Abfent from thee , the Poet's flame ...
... trembling ftring : My Phaon's fled , and I those arts resign ( Wretch that I am , to call that Phaon mine ! ) Return , fair youth , return , and bring along Joy to my foul , and vigour to my fong : Abfent from thee , the Poet's flame ...
Page 26
... trembling I unclose , That well - known name awakens all my woes . Oh name for ever fad ! for ever dear ! Still breath'd in fighs , still usher'd with a tear . I tremble too , where'er my own I find , 30 Some dire misfortune follows ...
... trembling I unclose , That well - known name awakens all my woes . Oh name for ever fad ! for ever dear ! Still breath'd in fighs , still usher'd with a tear . I tremble too , where'er my own I find , 30 Some dire misfortune follows ...
Page 36
... tremble round . While proftrate here in humble grief I lie , Kind , virtuous drops juft gath'ring in my eye , While praying , trembling , in the duft I roll , And dawning grace is op'ning on my foul : Come , if thou dar'ft , all ...
... tremble round . While proftrate here in humble grief I lie , Kind , virtuous drops juft gath'ring in my eye , While praying , trembling , in the duft I roll , And dawning grace is op'ning on my foul : Come , if thou dar'ft , all ...
Page 37
... reft , I go , Where flames refin'd in breafts feraphic glow : Thou , Abelard ! the laft fad office pay , And smooth my paffage to the realms of day ; 320 See my lips tremble , and my eye - balls C 3 ELOISA TO ABELARD . 37.
... reft , I go , Where flames refin'd in breafts feraphic glow : Thou , Abelard ! the laft fad office pay , And smooth my paffage to the realms of day ; 320 See my lips tremble , and my eye - balls C 3 ELOISA TO ABELARD . 37.
Page 38
Alexander Pope. See my lips tremble , and my eye - balls roll , Suck my last breath , and catch my flying foul ! Ah no - in facred vestments may'st thou ftand , 325 The hallow'd taper trembling in thy hand , Prefent the Cross before my ...
Alexander Pope. See my lips tremble , and my eye - balls roll , Suck my last breath , and catch my flying foul ! Ah no - in facred vestments may'st thou ftand , 325 The hallow'd taper trembling in thy hand , Prefent the Cross before my ...
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Page 30 - With other beauties charm my partial eyes, Full in my view set all the bright abode, And make my soul quit Abelard for God.
Page 31 - Long-sounding aisles, and intermingled graves, Black Melancholy sits, and round her throws A death-like silence., and a dread repose: Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene, Shades ev'ry flow'r, and darkens ev'ry green, Deepens the murmur of the falling floods, And breathes a browner horror on the woods.
Page 19 - Phaon's hate, And hope from seas and rocks a milder fate. Ye gentle gales, beneath my body blow, And softly lay me on the waves below!
Page 29 - ... on earth there be), And once the lot of Abelard and me. Alas, how chang'd ! what...
Page 26 - Yet write, oh write me all, that I may join Griefs to thy griefs, and echo sighs to thine. Nor foes nor fortune take this power away; And is my Abelard less kind than they?
Page 36 - Ah come not, write not, think not once of me, Nor share one pang of all I felt for thee. Thy oaths I quit, thy memory resign, Forget, renounce me, hate whate'er was mine.
Page 39 - When this rebellious heart shall beat no more; If ever chance two wand'ring lovers brings To Paraclete's white walls and silver springs, O'er the pale marble shall they join their heads, And drink the falling tears each other sheds, 350 Then sadly say, with mutual pity mov'd, "Oh may we never love as these have lov'd!
Page 29 - Ev'n thought meets thought, ere from the lips it part, And each warm wish springs mutual from the heart. This sure is bliss (if bliss on earth there be) And once the lot of Abelard and me.
Page 26 - Nor prayers nor fasts its stubborn pulse restrain, Nor tears for ages taught to flow in vain. Soon as thy letters trembling I unclose, That well-known name awakens all my woes.
Page 31 - The darksome pines, that o'er yon rocks reclin'd, Wave high, and murmur to the hollow wind, The wandering streams that shine between the hills, The grots that echo to the tinkling rills, The dying gales that pant upon the trees, The lakes that quiver to the curling breeze...