The works of the English poets. With prefaces, biographical and critical, by S. Johnson, Volume 581790 |
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Page 9
... beneath the secret shade , A various wreath of odorous flowers fhe made : * • Gay - motley'd pinks and fweet jonquils fhe chofe , The violet blue that on the moss - bank grows ; * That these flowers are found in very great abundance in ...
... beneath the secret shade , A various wreath of odorous flowers fhe made : * • Gay - motley'd pinks and fweet jonquils fhe chofe , The violet blue that on the moss - bank grows ; * That these flowers are found in very great abundance in ...
Page 27
... Beneath her vines preferv'd a part , Till they , whom science lov'd to name , ( O , who could fear it ? ) quench'd her flame . And , lo , an humbler relic laid In jealous Pifa's olive fhade ! See fmall Marino joins the theme , Though ...
... Beneath her vines preferv'd a part , Till they , whom science lov'd to name , ( O , who could fear it ? ) quench'd her flame . And , lo , an humbler relic laid In jealous Pifa's olive fhade ! See fmall Marino joins the theme , Though ...
Page 36
... Beneath thy lingering light : While fallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves , Or Winter , yelling through the troublous air , Affrights thy fhrinking train , And rudely rends thy robes : So long , regardful of thy quiet rule , Shall ...
... Beneath thy lingering light : While fallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves , Or Winter , yelling through the troublous air , Affrights thy fhrinking train , And rudely rends thy robes : So long , regardful of thy quiet rule , Shall ...
Page 52
... beneath the gliding fail ! VII . Yet lives there one , whofe heedless eye Shall fcorn thy pale fhrine glimmering near ? With him , fweet bard , may Fancy die , And Joy defert the blooming year . VIII . But thou , lorn ftream , whofe ...
... beneath the gliding fail ! VII . Yet lives there one , whofe heedless eye Shall fcorn thy pale fhrine glimmering near ? With him , fweet bard , may Fancy die , And Joy defert the blooming year . VIII . But thou , lorn ftream , whofe ...
Page 53
... the facred prize , Nor dare a theft for love and pity's fake ! * Mr. Thomson refided in the neighbourhood of Rich- mond fome time before his death . E 3 This This precious relick , form'd by magic power , Beneath O DE S. 53.
... the facred prize , Nor dare a theft for love and pity's fake ! * Mr. Thomson refided in the neighbourhood of Rich- mond fome time before his death . E 3 This This precious relick , form'd by magic power , Beneath O DE S. 53.
Common terms and phrases
AARON HILL Ægyptus æther ancient ariſe beauteous behold beneath bleft boaſt breathe charm chearful clime coaft courſe CYMBELINE deep delight deſcription diftant dreft duft eaſe eclogue erft ev'n facred fair Falernum fame fcene feek fhade fhall fhepherds fhore fide filent firſt fleece flocks flowers foft folemn fome fong fons ftill ftores ftrain fubject fuch fwains fweet fwell Gaul green GRONGAR HILL groves hand heart hills ifle induſtry iſle lofty loom lov'd maid meaſure moſt mountains Mufe mufic Muſe numbers nymphs o'er paffions paftures plains pleaſure poet proud raiſe realms rife riſe rocks ruins ſcene ſeems ſhade ſhall ſhe ſheep ſhore ſkill ſky ſpeed ſpread ſtate ſtep ſtill ſtream ſtreets ſtrong ſwain ſweet thee thefe Theocritus theſe thofe thoſe thou thouſand toil trade uſe vale vallies verſe virtue wave wealth whofe whoſe wild wind wiſhes woods wool youth
Popular passages
Page 24 - How sleep the brave, who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung ; By forms unseen their dirge is sung : There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there ! TO MERCY.
Page 98 - Who slept in buds the day, And many a Nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge And sheds the freshening dew, and lovelier still The pensive Pleasures sweet Prepare thy shadowy car.
Page 35 - midst its dreary dells, Whose walls more awful nod By thy religious gleams. Or if chill blustering winds, or driving rain, Prevent my willing feet, be mine the hut, That from the mountain's side, Views wilds, and swelling floods, And hamlets brown, and dim-discover'd spires, And hears their simple bell, and marks o'er all Thy dewy fingers draw The gradual dusky veil.
Page 41 - And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail. Still would her touch the strain prolong ; And from the rocks, the woods, the vale, She call'd on Echo still through all the song ; And where her sweetest theme she chose, A soft responsive voice was heard at every close ; And Hope enchanted smil'd, and wav'd her golden hair...
Page 87 - O thou, whose spirit most possest The sacred seat of Shakspeare's breast! By all that from thy prophet broke. In thy divine emotions spoke ; Hither again thy fury deal, Teach me but once like him to feel : His cypress wreath my meed decree, And I, O Fear, will dwell with thee ! ODE TO SIMPLICITY.
Page 76 - What if the lion in his rage I meet ! Oft in the dust I view his printed feet : And fearful ! oft, when day's declining light Yields her pale empire to the mourner night, By hunger...
Page 114 - I lie ; While the wanton Zephyr sings. And in the vale perfumes his wings ; While the waters murmur deep ; While the shepherd charms his sheep; While the birds unbounded fly, And with music fill the sky, Now, ev'n now. my joys run high.
Page 112 - And see the rivers how they run, Through woods and meads, in shade and sun Sometimes swift, sometimes slow, Wave succeeding wave, they go A various journey to the deep, Like human life, to endless sleep...
Page 111 - Below me trees unnumber'd rise, Beautiful in various dyes : The gloomy pine, the poplar blue, The yellow beech, the sable yew, The slender fir, that taper grows, ' The sturdy oak with broad-spread boughs. And beyond the purple grove, Haunt of Phyllis, queen of love...
Page 56 - Fresh to that soil thou turn'st, whose ev'ry vale Shall prompt the poet, and his song demand: To thee thy copious subjects ne'er shall fail; Thou need'st but take the pencil to thy hand, And paint what all believe who own thy genial land.