A Collection of Poems: In Six Volumes, Band 6J. Hughs, 1765 |
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Seite 20
... Muse . the immortal Mufe To your calm habitations , to the cave Corycian or the Delphic mount , will guide His footsteps ; and with and with your unfullied ftreams His lips will bathe : whether the eternal lore Of Themis , or the ...
... Muse . the immortal Mufe To your calm habitations , to the cave Corycian or the Delphic mount , will guide His footsteps ; and with and with your unfullied ftreams His lips will bathe : whether the eternal lore Of Themis , or the ...
Seite 25
... Muse's ear aspire ; Save that , inftructed by the Græcian lyre , With freedom's ancient notes their shameful task they III . 2 . Mark , how the dread Pantheon ftands , Amid the domes of modern hands : Amid the toys of idle state , How ...
... Muse's ear aspire ; Save that , inftructed by the Græcian lyre , With freedom's ancient notes their shameful task they III . 2 . Mark , how the dread Pantheon ftands , Amid the domes of modern hands : Amid the toys of idle state , How ...
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... Muse . O fool ! to think the man , whofe ample mind Muft grafp at all that yonder ftars furvey ; Muft join the nobleft form of every kind , The world's most perfect image to display , Can e'er his country's majesty behold , Unmov'd or ...
... Muse . O fool ! to think the man , whofe ample mind Muft grafp at all that yonder ftars furvey ; Muft join the nobleft form of every kind , The world's most perfect image to display , Can e'er his country's majesty behold , Unmov'd or ...
Seite 28
... Muse's fon ; Though with new honours the patrician's line Advance from age to age ; yet thus alone They win the fuffrage of impartial fame . The poet's name He best shall prove , Whose lays the foul with nobleft paffions move . But thee ...
... Muse's fon ; Though with new honours the patrician's line Advance from age to age ; yet thus alone They win the fuffrage of impartial fame . The poet's name He best shall prove , Whose lays the foul with nobleft paffions move . But thee ...
Seite 62
... Muse shall tell What mighty Kings with all their legions wrought , What cities funk , and storied nations fell When Cæfar , Titus , or when Trajan fought , From From private worth , and Portune's private ways с Whilft ( 62 )
... Muse shall tell What mighty Kings with all their legions wrought , What cities funk , and storied nations fell When Cæfar , Titus , or when Trajan fought , From From private worth , and Portune's private ways с Whilft ( 62 )
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bard beauty behold beneath beſt bleffings bleft boaſt bofom breaſt cauſe charms Chlorinda diftant eaſe Ev'n facred fafe fage fair fame fate fcene feat fenfe fhade fhall fhew fhun figh filent fince firft firſt flow'rs fmile foft folar folemn fome fong fons foul freſh friendſhip ftands ftate ftill fuch fure fweet fwelling genius glory Goddeſs grace grove gueſt guife hand heart heav'n himſelf juft laſt Latian lefs loft lyre mind moſt Mufe muft Muſe muſt Naiads ne'er numbers Nymphs o'er paffion pain peace plain pleas'd pleaſe pleaſure pow'r praiſe purſue raiſe reft rife rofe ſcene ſhade ſhall ſhe ſhould ſky ſpeak ſpirit ſpread ſprings ſtate ſteps ſtill ſtrains ſtream ſweet taſk taſte thee thefe theſe thofe thoſe thou thouſand toil truth vale virtue Whilft whofe Whoſe wife wings wiſh youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 387 - Hark, his hands the lyre explore ! Bright-eyed Fancy hovering o'er Scatters from her pidur'd urn Thoughts, that breathe, and words, that burn. But ah ! 'tis heard no more — Oh! Lyre divine, what daring Spirit Wakes thee now ? though he inherit Nor the pride, nor ample pinion, That the Theban Eagle bear Sailing with
Seite 391 - Thy fon is gone. He refts among the Dead. " The Swarm, that in thy noon-tide beam were born, " Gone to falute the rifing Morn. " Fair laughs the Morn, and foft the Zephyr blows, " While proudly riding o'er the azure realm
Seite 386 - This pencil take (fhe faid) whofe colours clear Richly paint the vernal year: Thine too thefe golden keys, immortal Boy ! This can unlock the gates of Joy ; Of Horrour that, and thrilling Fears, Or ope the facred fource of fympathetic Tears. III. 2.
Seite 384 - II. i. Man's feeble race what Ills await, Labour, and Penury, the racks of Pain, Difeafe, and Sorrow's weeping train, And Death, fad refuge from the ftorms of Fate ! The fond complaint, my Song, difprove, And juftify the laws of Jove. Say, has he given in vain the heav'nly Mufe ? Night, and all her fickly dews, Her
Seite 387 - tis heard no more — Oh! Lyre divine, what daring Spirit Wakes thee now ? though he inherit Nor the pride, nor ample pinion, That the Theban Eagle bear Sailing with fupreme dominion Through the azure deep of air: Yet oft before his infant eyes would run Such forms, as glitter in the Mufe's ray With orient hues, unborrow'd of the
Seite 389 - (Loofe his beard, and hoary hair Stream'd, like a meteor, to the troubled air) And with a Matter's hand, and Prophet's fire, Struck the deep forrows of his lyre. * Hark, how each giant-oak, and defart cave, * Sighs to the torrent's
Seite 390 - The characters of hell to trace. " Mark the year, and mark the night, " When Severn fhall re-echo with affright " The fhrieks of death, through Berkley's roofs that ring, " Shrieks of an agonizing King! " She-Wolf of France, with unrelenting fangs,
Seite 382 - A WAKE, /Eolian lyre, awake, * And give to rapture all thy trembling firings. From Helicon's harmonious fprings A thoufand rills their mazy progrefs take: The laughing flowers, that round them blow, Drink life and fragrance as they flow. Now the ; rich ftream of mufic winds along Deep, majeftic, fmooth and ftrong, Through verdant vales, and Ceres' golden reign: Now rolling down the
Seite 390 - they lie, * Smear'd with gore, and ghaftly pale: * Far, far aloof th' affrighted ravens fail; * The famifh'd Eagle fcreams, and paffes by. * Dear loft companions of my tuneful art, * Dear, as the light, that vifits thefe fad eyes, * Dear, as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, ' Ye died amidft your dying country's cries — ' No more I weep. They do not deep.
Seite 391 - From thee be born, who o'er thy country hangs *' The fcourge of Heav'n. What Terrors round him wait! ** Amazement in his van, with Flight combin'd, " And Sorrow's faded form, and Solitude behind. II. 2. " Mighty Victor, mighty Lord, " Low on his funeral couch he lies ! " No pitying heart, no eye afford " A tear to grace his obfequies. »** Is the fable