A Collection of Poems: In Six Volumes, Volum 4J. Hughs, 1765 |
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Side 8
... fields withstood ; Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest , Some Cromwell guiltlefs of his country's blood . Th ' applause of lift'ning fenates to command , The threats of pain and ruin to despise , To scatter plenty o'er a fmiling ...
... fields withstood ; Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest , Some Cromwell guiltlefs of his country's blood . Th ' applause of lift'ning fenates to command , The threats of pain and ruin to despise , To scatter plenty o'er a fmiling ...
Side 20
... fields of Science had he stray'd With eager fearch , and fent his piercing eye Through each learn'd fchool , each philofophic fhade , Where Truth and Virtue erft were deem'd to lie ; If haply the fair vagrants he mote spy , Or hear the ...
... fields of Science had he stray'd With eager fearch , and fent his piercing eye Through each learn'd fchool , each philofophic fhade , Where Truth and Virtue erft were deem'd to lie ; If haply the fair vagrants he mote spy , Or hear the ...
Side 37
... him wheel'd With restless steps aye traversing the field . Wend arrear , move backwards . Bet , beat ; bray'd , refounded . C 3 • Fone , foes . " Trenchant , cutting . And And ever as his foe's intemperate pride , Through rage ( 37 )
... him wheel'd With restless steps aye traversing the field . Wend arrear , move backwards . Bet , beat ; bray'd , refounded . C 3 • Fone , foes . " Trenchant , cutting . And And ever as his foe's intemperate pride , Through rage ( 37 )
Side 63
... cast in days of yöre . Yon fword fome heroe's arm might wield , Red in the ranks of Chalgrave's field , Where ever - glorious Hampden bled , And Freedom tears of forrow fhed . Or Or in the gallery let me walk , Where living ( 63 )
... cast in days of yöre . Yon fword fome heroe's arm might wield , Red in the ranks of Chalgrave's field , Where ever - glorious Hampden bled , And Freedom tears of forrow fhed . Or Or in the gallery let me walk , Where living ( 63 )
Side 115
... not yawning , to the field . She talk'd it well to roufe him to the fight , But like Penelope , when out of fight , All she had done by day , undid by night . H 2 Is h Is this your wily Carthaginian kind ? No English ( 115 )
... not yawning , to the field . She talk'd it well to roufe him to the fight , But like Penelope , when out of fight , All she had done by day , undid by night . H 2 Is h Is this your wily Carthaginian kind ? No English ( 115 )
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
ARISBE beneath bleft bloom bluſh boaſt bofom bow'r breaſt bright caft cauſe charms Columbel dæmons dear eaſe erft Ev'n eyes facred fafe fage fair fame fate fcorn fear fhade fhall fhine fhould figh filent fing firſt fkies flain fleep flow'rs fmiles foft folemn fome fong fons foon footh forrow foul ftill fuch fure fweet fwelling grace grove heart heav'n Henry Pelham honour laſt lefs loft lov'd lyre maid mind moſt mourn Mufe Muſe muſt myſelf night nymphs o'er paffion pain peace penfive plain pleaſe pleaſure Pompey pow'r praiſe pride purſue raiſe reafon reſt rife roſe ſcene ſhade ſhall ſhe ſhine ſkies ſky ſmiling ſpeak ſpread ſpring Squire ſtand ſtate ſteps ſtill ſtreams ſweet taſte tears thee theſe thofe thoſe thou thouſand toil train tranſports vale Virgil's tomb virtue Whilft whofe Whoſe wiſh youth
Populære avsnitt
Side 174 - On what foundation stands the warrior's pride, How just his hopes let Swedish Charles decide ; A frame of adamant, a soul of fire, No dangers fright him, and no labours tire ; O'er love, o'er fear, extends his wide domain, Unconquer'd lord of pleasure and of pain ; No joys to him pacific...
Side 11 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath and near his favourite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; 'The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou can'st read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Side 6 - The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Side 175 - He left the name, at which the world grew pale, To point a moral, or adorn a tale.
Side 380 - I have found out a gift for my fair; I have found where the wood-pigeons breed; But let me that plunder forbear, She will say 'twas a barbarous deed...
Side 7 - Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the Poor. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave Await alike th' inevitable hour : — The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Side 10 - Ev'n from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, Ev'n in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who mindful of th...
Side 277 - Our portion is not large, indeed ; But then how little do we need ! For nature's calls are few : In this the art of living lies, To want no more than may suffice, And make that little do.
Side 10 - Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, "Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn; "There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
Side 379 - But with tendrils of woodbine is bound; Not a beech's more beautiful green. But a sweet-briar entwines it around. Not my fields in the prime of the year, More charms than my cattle unfold; Not a brook that is limpid and clear, But it glitters with fishes of gold.