The Poetical Works of John Dryden, 1. köide

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Appleton, 1856 - 524 pages

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Page 73 - He sought the storms ; but, for a calm unfit, Would steer too nigh the sands to boast his wit. Great wits are sure to madness near allied And thin partitions do their bounds divide; Else, why should he, with wealth and honour blest, Refuse his age the needful hours of rest?
Page 496 - In flower of youth and beauty's pride : — Happy, happy, happy pair ! None but the brave None but the brave None but the brave deserves the fair...
Page 497 - Flushed with a purple grace He shows his honest face: Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes. Bacchus, ever fair and young, Drinking joys did first ordain; Bacchus...
Page 138 - DIM as the borrowed beams of moon and stars | To lonely, weary, wandering travellers,* ' Is reason to the soul : and as, on high, Those rolling fires discover but the sky, Not light us here ; so reason's glimmering ray Was lent, not to assure our doubtful way, But guide us upward to a better day. And as those nightly tapers disappear, When day's bright lord ascends our hemisphere ; So pale grows reason at religion's sight, ~ So dies, and so dissolves in supernatural light.
Page 500 - And glittering temples of their hostile gods. — The princes applaud with a furious joy : And the king seized a flambeau with zeal to destroy ; Thais led the way To light him to his prey, And like another Helen, fired another Troy...
Page 502 - Jubal struck the chorded shell, His listening brethren stood around, And, wondering, on their faces fell To worship that celestial sound. Less than a God they thought there could not dwell Within the hollow of that shell, That spoke so sweetly and so well.
Page 82 - Was everything by starts and nothing long ; But in the course of one revolving moon Was chemist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon ; Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking, Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking.
Page 148 - Shadwell alone my perfect image bears, Mature in dulness from his tender years ; Shadwell alone of all my sons is he Who stands confirmed in full stupidity. The rest to some faint meaning make pretence, But Shadwell never deviates into sense.
Page 82 - He laughed himself from court; then sought relief By forming parties, but could ne'er be chief; For, spite of him, the weight of business fell On Absalom, and wise Achitophel ; Thus, wicked but in will, of means bereft, He left not faction, but of that was left.
Page 500 - At last divine Cecilia came, Inventress of the vocal frame ; The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, Enlarged the former narrow bounds, And added length to solemn sounds, With nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before.

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