Roach's Beauties of the Modern Poets of Great Britain: Carefully Selected and Arranged ...J. Roach, 1794 - English poetry |
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Page 56
... just designs of Greece , Return in all thy fimple ftate , Confirm the tales her fons relate ! HUMAN LIFE , By Dr. YOUNG . AH ! what is human life ? How like the dial's tardy - moving fhade ! Day after day flides from us unperceiv'd ...
... just designs of Greece , Return in all thy fimple ftate , Confirm the tales her fons relate ! HUMAN LIFE , By Dr. YOUNG . AH ! what is human life ? How like the dial's tardy - moving fhade ! Day after day flides from us unperceiv'd ...
Page 26
... just will refign'd , She ne'er is feen to weep , or heard to figh Now turn your eyes to yon sweet - smelling bow'r , Where , flush'd with all the infolence of wealth , Sits pamper'd Vice ! For him th`Arabian gale Breathes forth ...
... just will refign'd , She ne'er is feen to weep , or heard to figh Now turn your eyes to yon sweet - smelling bow'r , Where , flush'd with all the infolence of wealth , Sits pamper'd Vice ! For him th`Arabian gale Breathes forth ...
Page 41
... ; Let kindled Fancy view the glorious morn . When from the bursting graves the just shall rife , All Nature smiling ; and , by angels borne , Meffiah's cross far blazing o'er the skies ! D3 LYCIDAS YET LYCI D A S. By JOHN MILTON . ET [ 41 ]
... ; Let kindled Fancy view the glorious morn . When from the bursting graves the just shall rife , All Nature smiling ; and , by angels borne , Meffiah's cross far blazing o'er the skies ! D3 LYCIDAS YET LYCI D A S. By JOHN MILTON . ET [ 41 ]
Page 5
... just ? Were these their crimes ? They were his own much more ; But wealth is crime enough to him that's poor ; Who , having spent the treasures of his crown , Condemns their luxury to feed his own . And yet this act , to varnish o'er ...
... just ? Were these their crimes ? They were his own much more ; But wealth is crime enough to him that's poor ; Who , having spent the treasures of his crown , Condemns their luxury to feed his own . And yet this act , to varnish o'er ...
Page 25
... just , and true . There is a gofpel of rich grace , Whence finners all their comforts dtaw : Lord , I repent , and feek thy face , For I have often broke thy law . There is an hour when I mufl die , Nor do I know how foon ' twill come ...
... just , and true . There is a gofpel of rich grace , Whence finners all their comforts dtaw : Lord , I repent , and feek thy face , For I have often broke thy law . There is an hour when I mufl die , Nor do I know how foon ' twill come ...
Common terms and phrases
Beneath beſt blefs bleft blifs boaft bofom bow'r breaft bright charms Cyric death defart defire delight divine doth ECLOGUE EDWARD YOUNG erft eternal ev'ry eyes facred fafe fair fame fate fcene fear feas fecret feem feen felf fenfe fhade fhall fhame fhepherds fhine fhore fhould figh fight filent fing firft firſt fkies flain fleep flow'r fmile foft folemn fome fong forrow foul fpirit fprings frikes ftill ftream fuch fwain fweet Gonne grief grove heart heav'n himſelf juft kings lefs loft Lord lov'd Lycidas maid mind moft moſt Mufe muft muſt nymph o'er paffion pain peace pleaſe pleaſure pow'r praife praiſe purſue raiſe refign'd Refignation reft rife ſcenes ſhall ſhe ſkies ſky ſpread ſweet tears Theatre Royal thee thefe theſe thine thofe thoſe thou thought thouſand thro Twill whilft whofe whoſe WILLIAM SHENSTONE wyllowe
Popular passages
Page 40 - Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear, Compels me to disturb your season due : For Lycidas* is dead, dead ere his prime, Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer : Who would not sing for Lycidas ? He knew Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.
Page 57 - Ten thousand thousand precious gifts My daily thanks employ ; Nor is the least a cheerful heart, That tastes those gifts with joy.
Page 3 - Though equal to all things, for all things unfit ; Too nice for a statesman, too proud for a wit, For a patriot too cool, for a drudge disobedient, And too fond of the right to pursue the expedient. In short 'twas his fate, unemploy'd, or in place, sir, To eat mutton cold, and cut blocks with a razor.
Page 42 - Clos'd o'er the head of your lov'd Lycidas? For neither were ye playing on the steep, Where your old Bards, the famous Druids, lie, Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high, Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard stream: Ay me!
Page 6 - Of praise a mere glutton, he swallow'd what came, And the puff of a dunce he mistook it for fame; Till his relish grown callous, almost to disease, Who pepper'd the highest was surest to please. But let us be candid, and speak out our mind, If dunces applauded, he paid them in kind. Ye Kenricks, ye Kellys, and Woodfalls so grave, What a commerce was yours while you got and you gave!
Page 7 - Here Reynolds is laid, and to tell you my mind, He has not left a wiser or better behind ; His pencil was striking, resistless, and grand ; His manners were gentle, complying, and bland : Still born to improve us in every part, His pencil our faces, his manners our heart...
Page 54 - ... shade. In winter fire. Blest, who can unconcern'dly find Hours, days, and years slide soft away. In health of body, peace of mind, Quiet by day. Sound sleep by night; study and ease, Together mixt; sweet recreation: And innocence, which most does please With meditation.
Page 55 - Tempe's vale, her native maids, Amidst the festal sounding shades, To some unwearied minstrel dancing ; While, as his flying fingers kiss'd the strings, Love framed with Mirth a gay fantastic round : Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound; And he, amidst his frolic play, As if he would the charming air repay, Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings.
Page 3 - Were these their crimes! they were his own much more; But wealth is crime enough to him that's poor, Who having spent the treasures of his crown, Condemns their luxury to feed his own ; And yet this act, to varnish o'er the shame Of sacrilege, must bear Devotion's name. No crime so bold but would be understood A real, or at least, a seeming good.
Page 41 - For we were nursed upon the self-same hill, Fed the same flock by fountain, shade, and rill. Together both, ere the high lawns appear'd Under the opening eye-lids of the morn, We drove a-field, and both together heard What time the gray-fly winds her sultry horn...