The works of the English poets. With prefaces, biographical and critical, by S. Johnson, Volume 581790 |
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Page 3
... along the vallies play , Breathe on each flower , and bear their sweets away : By Tigris ' wandering waves he fat , and fung This useful leffon for the fair and young . B 2 Ye Ye Perfian dames , he said , to you belong [ 3 ]
... along the vallies play , Breathe on each flower , and bear their sweets away : By Tigris ' wandering waves he fat , and fung This useful leffon for the fair and young . B 2 Ye Ye Perfian dames , he said , to you belong [ 3 ]
Page 9
... breathing maize at fetting day ; Amidst the maids of Zagen's peaceful grove , Emyra fung the pleafing cares of love . Of Abra firft began the tender ftrain , Who led her youth with flocks upon the plain : At morn she came those willing ...
... breathing maize at fetting day ; Amidst the maids of Zagen's peaceful grove , Emyra fung the pleafing cares of love . Of Abra firft began the tender ftrain , Who led her youth with flocks upon the plain : At morn she came those willing ...
Page 13
... breathe the fweets of Aly's flowery vale : Fair fcenes ! but , ah ! no more with peace poffeft , With ease alluring , and with plenty bleft . No more the shepherd's whitening tents appear , Nor the kind products of a bounteous year ; No ...
... breathe the fweets of Aly's flowery vale : Fair fcenes ! but , ah ! no more with peace poffeft , With ease alluring , and with plenty bleft . No more the shepherd's whitening tents appear , Nor the kind products of a bounteous year ; No ...
Page 19
... breathe her genuine thought , In numbers warmly pure , and fweetly strong : Who first on mountains wild , In Fancy , loveliest child , Thy babe , and Pleasure's , nurs'd the powers of fong ! C 2 Thou , Thou , who with hermit heart ...
... breathe her genuine thought , In numbers warmly pure , and fweetly strong : Who first on mountains wild , In Fancy , loveliest child , Thy babe , and Pleasure's , nurs'd the powers of fong ! C 2 Thou , Thou , who with hermit heart ...
Page 20
... breathe , Though beauty cull'd the wreathe , Still ask thy hand to range their order'd hues . While Rome could none esteem , But virtue's patriot theme , You lov'd her hills , and led her laureate band ; But But ftaid to fing alone To ...
... breathe , Though beauty cull'd the wreathe , Still ask thy hand to range their order'd hues . While Rome could none esteem , But virtue's patriot theme , You lov'd her hills , and led her laureate band ; But But ftaid to fing alone To ...
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.