Poetical Works...: To which are Now Added Inscriptionum Romanarum Delectus, and An Inaugural Speech...together with Memoirs of His Life and Writings; and Notes, Critical and Explanatory, Volum 1

University Press, for W. Hanwell and J. Parker, 1802

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Side 127 - And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great, Under the canopies of costly state, And lull'd with sounds of sweetest melody?
Side 154 - Man's feeble race what ills await ! . Labour, and Penury, the racks of Pain, Disease, and Sorrow's weeping train, And Death, sad refuge from the storms of fate ! The fond complaint, my song, disprove, And justify the laws of Jove.
Side 59 - Sudden, the sombrous imagery is fled, Which late my visionary rapture fed: Thy powerful hand has broke the Gothic chain, And brought my bosom back to truth again; To truth, by no peculiar...
Side 92 - Spires the black pine, while through the naked street, Once haunt of tradeful merchants, springs the grass : Here columns heap'd on prostrate columns, torn From their firm base, increase the mouldering mass. Far as the sight can pierce, appear the spoils Of sunk magnificence ! a blended scene Of moles, fanes, arches, domes, and palaces, Where, with his brother Horror, Ruin sits.
Side lviii - Our friend, Dr. Hurd, having long ago desired me in your name to communicate any fragments, or sketches of a design I once had to give a history of English poetry, you may well think me rude or negligent, when you see me hesitating for so many months before I comply with your request, and yet (believe me) few of your friends have been better pleased than I to find this subject (surely neither unentei'taining...
Side 36 - he was one of those divine men who, like a chapel in a palace, remain unprofaned, while all the rest is tyranny, corruption, and folly.
Side 30 - Wept for thee in Helicon, And fome flowers, and fome bays, For thy herfe, to ftrow the ways, Sent thee from the banks of Came, Devoted to thy virtuous name...
Side 44 - Of human offspring, fole propriety In Paradife of all things common elfe. By thee adult'rous luft was...
Side 35 - The oracles are dumb; No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving: No nightly trance or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
Side 95 - Hail, queen divine! whom, as tradition tells, Once in his evening walk a Druid found, Far in a hollow glade of Mona's woods; And piteous bore with hospitable hand To the close shelter of his oaken bow'r.

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