Lady's Poetical Magazine, Or Beauties of British Poetry, Volum 1Harrison and Company, 1781 |
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Side 161
... sad strains incline a favouring ear ; Think on the God , whom thou and I adore , Nor turn unpitying from the poor man's prayer ! Ah , me ! how blefs'd was once a peafant's life ! No lawless paffion fwell'd my even breast : Far from the ...
... sad strains incline a favouring ear ; Think on the God , whom thou and I adore , Nor turn unpitying from the poor man's prayer ! Ah , me ! how blefs'd was once a peafant's life ! No lawless paffion fwell'd my even breast : Far from the ...
Side 236
... Sad as it feems , to balance and to bear ! 190 In me , a man behold whofe morn ferene , Whose noon of better life , with honour spent , In virtuous purpose or in honest act , • Drew fair diflinction on my publick name From those among ...
... Sad as it feems , to balance and to bear ! 190 In me , a man behold whofe morn ferene , Whose noon of better life , with honour spent , In virtuous purpose or in honest act , • Drew fair diflinction on my publick name From those among ...
Side 262
... Sad Laura's blifs is with Lorenzo fled . For thee , falfe youth , was every joy refign'd , Young health , fweet peace , and innocence of mind ; Are these the conftant vows thy tongue profefs'd , When first thy arms my yielding beauties ...
... Sad Laura's blifs is with Lorenzo fled . For thee , falfe youth , was every joy refign'd , Young health , fweet peace , and innocence of mind ; Are these the conftant vows thy tongue profefs'd , When first thy arms my yielding beauties ...
Side 281
... And in the garden spreads the noxious weed ; Where cattle paftur'd late , the purple plain , Sad fcene of horror ! teems with heroes flain ; N n Where Where the proud palace rear'd it's haughty head , Deep BEAUTIES OF POETRY . 281.
... And in the garden spreads the noxious weed ; Where cattle paftur'd late , the purple plain , Sad fcene of horror ! teems with heroes flain ; N n Where Where the proud palace rear'd it's haughty head , Deep BEAUTIES OF POETRY . 281.
Side 386
... sad distractions rove ; In prickly brakes their tender limbs they tear , And leave on thorns their locks of golden hair . With their fharp nails themfelves the Satyrs wound , And tug their fhaggy beards , and bite with grief the ground ...
... sad distractions rove ; In prickly brakes their tender limbs they tear , And leave on thorns their locks of golden hair . With their fharp nails themfelves the Satyrs wound , And tug their fhaggy beards , and bite with grief the ground ...
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
Amyntor beauty behold beneath bleffings blefs'd blifs bofom breaſt cauſe charms chearful cloſe crown'd death defcend defire deſpair e'en eaſe erft ev'ry eyes facred fafe faid fair fame fate fcene fear feas feems fenfe fhade fhall fhining fhore fhould fide fighs fight filent fing firſt fkies flain fleep flow'rs fmiles foft fome fong fons foon foothe forrow foul ftands ftill ftrain ftream fuch fweet fwell grief heart Heav'n Higham Hill himſelf juft laft laſt loft Lycon lyre magick mind moſt mourn Mufe muft muſt ne'er night numbers nymph o'er paffion pain peace plain pleas'd pleaſe pleaſure pow'r praiſe rage raiſe reafon reft reſt rife ſcene ſhade ſhall ſhe ſkies ſky ſpread ſtate ſtill ſweet tears thee thefe theſe thine thofe thoſe thou thought thouſand thro trembling Twas virtue weeping whofe Whoſe wiſh youth
Populære avsnitt
Side 145 - 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 canst read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Side 145 - 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 149 - 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 142 - Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. 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.
Side 141 - Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds : Save that, from yonder ivy-mantled tower, The moping owl does to the Moon complain Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, Molest her ancient solitary reign.
Side 145 - Here rests his head upon the lap of earth A youth, to fortune and to fame unknown: Fair science frown'd not on his humble birth, And melancholy mark'd him for her own. Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere...
Side 147 - I fed on the smiles of my dear? They tell me, my favourite maid, The pride of that valley, is flown; Alas ! where with her I have stray'd, I could wander with pleasure, alone.
Side 142 - 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 148 - 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. One would think she might like to retire To the bow'r I have labour'd to rear...
Side 442 - War, he sung, is toil and trouble; Honour, but an empty bubble; Never ending, still beginning, Fighting still, and still destroying; If the world be worth thy winning, Think, O think it worth enjoying! Lovely Thais sits beside thee, Take the good the gods provide thee!