Poemsauthor, 1762 - 277 sider |
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Resultat 1-5 av 21
Side 2
... plan To pull down other's reputation , And build their own on that foundation . The Scholar grave , of taste discerning , Who lives on credit for his learning , And And has no better claim to wit Than carping at [ 2 ]
... plan To pull down other's reputation , And build their own on that foundation . The Scholar grave , of taste discerning , Who lives on credit for his learning , And And has no better claim to wit Than carping at [ 2 ]
Side 6
... Taste . " Twere foolish for a drudge to chuse A gufto , which he cannot use . Better discard the idle whim , What's He to Tafte ? or Tafte to Him ? For me , it hurts me to the foul To brook confinement or controul ; Still to be pinion'd ...
... Taste . " Twere foolish for a drudge to chuse A gufto , which he cannot use . Better discard the idle whim , What's He to Tafte ? or Tafte to Him ? For me , it hurts me to the foul To brook confinement or controul ; Still to be pinion'd ...
Side 10
... discretion , Who knows no overflow of spirit , Whose want of paffions is his merit , Whom wit and taste and judgment flies , Shall shake his noddle , and feem wise . ? PART PART OF HOMER'S HYMN TO APOLLO . Translated from the [ 10 ]
... discretion , Who knows no overflow of spirit , Whose want of paffions is his merit , Whom wit and taste and judgment flies , Shall shake his noddle , and feem wise . ? PART PART OF HOMER'S HYMN TO APOLLO . Translated from the [ 10 ]
Side 31
... taste , And every fenfeless line is dreft In quaint expreffion's tinfel veft . Say did you never chance to meet A monfieur - barber in the ftreet , Whose ruffle , as it lank depends , And dangles o'er his fingers ' ends , His olive ...
... taste , And every fenfeless line is dreft In quaint expreffion's tinfel veft . Say did you never chance to meet A monfieur - barber in the ftreet , Whose ruffle , as it lank depends , And dangles o'er his fingers ' ends , His olive ...
Side 32
Robert Lloyd. And fhall these wretches bards commence Without or fpirit , taste , or sense ? And when they bring no other treasure , Shall I admire them for their measure ? Or do I fcorn the critic's rules Because I will not learn of ...
Robert Lloyd. And fhall these wretches bards commence Without or fpirit , taste , or sense ? And when they bring no other treasure , Shall I admire them for their measure ? Or do I fcorn the critic's rules Because I will not learn of ...
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Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
againſt Apollo Bard bleft BONNELL THORNTON breaſt burſting Cambridge cauſe Christ Church claffic Coll Comm Cornelius Gallus Delos e'en e'er eaſe ENVY erft Eſq ev'ry eyes facred fame fhall fhew fhou'd fibi fide filent fing firſt fome fong fons fools foul ftill ftrike ftrong fuch fure genius Gent George grace hæc heart himſelf Honourable inglorius John juſt king Lady Latona Lord lyre madneſs maſter meaſure Mifs moſt Mufe muft Muſe muſt ne'er numbers o'er Ovid fe Oxon pleaſe pleaſure poet poet's pow'r praiſe profe Propertius Quam raiſe rife ſay ſcene ſenſe ſhall ſhe ſkill ſmile ſpeak ſpirit ſpread ſtage ſtate ſtill ſtudy taſte thee thefe themſelves theſe thine Thomas Thomas Salter thoſe thou thouſand thro throne Trin truth uſe verſe whofe Whoſe William WILLIAM HOGARTH wiſh wou'd youth
Populære avsnitt
Side 239 - THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Side 257 - 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 243 - 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 241 - 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 253 - Nor cast one longing, ling'ring look behind? On some fond breast the parting soul relies. Some pious drops the closing eye requires; 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 255 - One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill, Along the heath and near his fav'rite 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 churchway path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay Grav'd on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Side 50 - Apollo there, with aim so clever, Stretches his leaden bow for ever; And there, without the pow'r to fly, Stands fix'da tip-toe Mercury.
Side 241 - Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a mould'ring heap, Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
Side 249 - Penury reprefs'd their noble rage, And froze the genial current of the foul, Full many a gem of pureft ray ferene, The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear ; Full many a flower is born to blufh unfeen, And wafte its fweetnefs on the defart air.
Side 239 - The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. 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...