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angels Astcot Autumnal face bear beasts beauty blood body call'd chang'd confess Cooper's Hill COUNTESS OF BEDFORD COUNTESS OF HUNTINGDON court dark dead death Denham didst dost doth dwell Dymas earth ELEGY ev'n ev'ry everfree eyes fair faith fall fame fate fear fire force friends frouard gave give God's gods gold goltn gone grace grave grief grow hadst hand happy hath heart heav'n hell honour hope immortal kings kiss knew leave less live lost lov'd man's mind Muse Nature ne'er never noble numbers pain pity poets pow'r praise prince Pyrrhus rage saints Sir John Denham soul stay tears thee thence thine things thou thou art thou hast Thou know'st thoughts thro thyself triumph true Twas twixt unto verse virtue Whilst wise wJri youth
Seite xxi - No crime so bold but would be understood A real, or at least, a seeming good. Who fears not to do ill, yet fears the name, And, free from conscience, is a slave to fame. Thus he the church at once protects and spoils ; But princes' swords are sharper than their styles : And thus to th' ages past he makes amends, Their charity destroys, their faith defends.
Seite 22 - Can knowledge have no bound, but must advance So far, to make us wish for ignorance, And rather in the dark to grope our way Than, led by a false guide, to err by day...
Seite v - O could I flow like thee, and make thy stream My great example, as it is my theme! Though deep, yet clear, though gentle, yet not dull, Strong without rage, without o'er-flowing full.
Seite 25 - But his proud head the airy mountain hides among the clouds ; his shoulders and his sides a shady mantle clothes ; his curled brows frown on the gentle stream, which calmly flows, while winds and storms his lofty forehead beat; the common fate of all that's high or great.
Seite 22 - My eye, descending from the Hill, surveys Where Thames among the wanton valleys strays. Thames ! the most loved of all the Ocean's sons, By his old sire, to his embraces runs, Hasting to pay his tribute to the sea, Like mortal life to meet eternity ; Though with those streams he no resemblance hold, Whose foam is amber, and their gravel gold * : His genuine and less guilty...
Seite xvii - Sure there are poets which did never dream upon Parnassus, nor did taste the stream • of Helicon ; we therefore may suppose those made not poets, but the poets those...
Seite v - is the work that confers upon him the rank and dignity of an original author. He seems to have been, at least among us, the author of a species of composition that may be denominated local poetry, of which the fundamental subject is some particular landscape, to b« poetically described with the addition of such embellishments as may be supplied by historical retrospection or incidental meditation.
Seite v - The lines are in themselves not perfect ; for most of the words, thus artfully opposed, are to be understood simply on one side of the comparison, and metaphorically on the other ; and if there be any language which does not express intellectual operations, by material images, into that language they cannot be translated.
Seite 41 - But whither am I stray'd ? I need not raise Trophies to thee from other men's dispraise : Nor is thy fame on lesser ruins built, Nor needs thy juster title the foul guilt Of Eastern kings, who, to secure their reign, Must have their brothers, sons, and kindred slain.