Bell's Edition: The Poets of Great Britain Complete from Chaucer to Churchill ...

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J. Bell, 1784 - English poetry

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Page 99 - A narrow compafs! and yet there Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair ; Give me but what this riband bound, Take all the reft the fun goes round. XXX. THE FALL.
Page 35 - virtues which in parents fhine 15 Make not like progrefs thro' the line. *Tis not from whom, but where we live: The place does oft' thofe graces give. Great Julius, on the mountains bred, A flock perhaps, or herd had led.
Page xliii - old coins, one muft go to an antiquary to underftand their true meaning and value. Such advances may a great genius make when it undertakes any thing in earneft. Some painters will hit the chief lines and mafterftrokes of a face fo truly, that thro' all the differences of age the
Page xliii - out. Were we to judge barely by the wording, we could not know what was wrote at twenty, and what at fourfcore. He complains, indeed, of a tide of words that comes in upon the Englifh poet, and overflows whatever
Page 41 - And, without planting, drink of ev'ry vine. To dig for wealth we weary not our limbs; Gold, tho' the heavieft metal, hither fwims. Ours is the harveft where the Indians mow ; We plough the deep, and reap what others
Page 45 - Brutus thought to break their yoke, But cut the bond of union with that ftroke. That fun once fet, a thoufand meaner ftars Gave a dim light to violence and wars; To fuch a tempeft as now threatens all,
Page 135 - there as much as ever diftempered with the fame fatal affection for play, which engaged him in one adventure that well deferves to be related. As he returned to his lodgings from a gaming-table he was attacked in the dark by three ruffians, who were employed to
Page xxxiii - and in jeft, and therefore very grateful to all kind " of company, where he was not the lefs efteemed *' for being very rich. He had been even nurfed in *' parliaments, where he fat when he was very young,
Page 85 - Ah, cruel Nymph! from whom her humble fwain Flies for relief unto the raging main, And from the winds and tempefts does expect A milder fate than from her cold neglect! Yet there he '11 pray that the unkind may prove

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