The Lusiad: Or, The Discovery of India. : An Epic Poem

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Jackson and Lister, 1776 - Electronic book - 484 pages
 

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Page cxxiv - My great example, as it is my theme ! Tho' deep, yet clear ; tho' gentle, yet not dull ; Strong without rage, without o'er-flowing full.
Page 291 - Nayi-ea the noble rank is claimed ; ' The toils of culture and of art they scorn, ' The warrior's plumes their haughty brows adorn ; ' The shining faulchion brandish'd in the right, ' Their left arm wields the target in the fight ; ' Of danger scornful, ever armed they stand •' Around the king, a stern barbarian...
Page cxx - But the poets and writers of histories are the best doctors of this knowledge; where we may find painted forth with great life, how affections are kindled and incited; and how pacified and refrained; and how again contained from act and further degree; how they disclose themselves, how they work, how they vary, how they gather and fortify, how they are inwrapped one within another, and how they do fight and encounter one with another...
Page cxx - From hence, and not till now, will be the right season of forming them to be able writers and composers in every excellent matter, when they shall be thus fraught with an universal insight into things.
Page cxiii - Barreto was, in this unpleafant fituation, to retain the converfation of Camoens at his table, it was his leaft care to render the life of his gueft agreeable. Chagrined with his treatment, and a confiderable time having elapfed in vain dependence upon Barreto, Camoens refolved to return to his native country.
Page cxx - ... to as great a trial of our patience as any other that they preach to us.
Page 317 - Full little knowest thou that hast not tried, What hell it is, in suing long to bide: To lose good days, that might be better spent; To waste long nights in pensive discontent; To speed today, to be put back tomorrow; To feed on hope, to pine with fear and sorrow; To have thy prince's grace, yet want her peers...
Page xxxiii - Europe and the monkifh age in which he was born, lefs the refult of his genius and toils. What is an Alexander || crowned with trophies at the head of his army, compared with a Henry contemplating the ocean from his window on the rock of Sagrez ! The one fuggefts the idea of the evil daemon, the other of a tutelary angel.
Page 211 - In me the spirit of the Cape behold, That rock by you the Cape of Tempests named, By Neptune's rage in horrid earthquakes framed, When Jove's red bolts o'er Titan's offspring flamed. With...
Page 216 - As o'er our head The fiend dissolved, an empty shadow, fled ; So may his curses by the winds of heaven Far o'er the deep, their idle sport, be driven ! With sacred horror thrill'd, Melinda's lord* Held up the eager hand, and caught the word : Oh wondrous faith of ancient days...

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