A Collection of Poems in Six Volumes, Bind 6Robert Dodsley J. Dodsley, 1782 |
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Side 17
... toils , To beat the coverts , with the jovial horn At dawn of day to fummon the loud hounds , She calls the lingering fluggard from his dreams ; And where his breast may drink the mountain breeze , And where the fervour of the funny ...
... toils , To beat the coverts , with the jovial horn At dawn of day to fummon the loud hounds , She calls the lingering fluggard from his dreams ; And where his breast may drink the mountain breeze , And where the fervour of the funny ...
Side 23
... toils , In thofe unfading islands of the blest , Where Sacred bards abide . Hail , honour'd Nymphs ; The cave Corycian . ] Of this cave Paufanias , in his Tenth Book , gives the following description : " Between Delphi and the eminences ...
... toils , In thofe unfading islands of the blest , Where Sacred bards abide . Hail , honour'd Nymphs ; The cave Corycian . ] Of this cave Paufanias , in his Tenth Book , gives the following description : " Between Delphi and the eminences ...
Side 33
... , O progeny of heroes old , Thee to feverer toils thy fate requires : The fate which form'd thee in a chofen mould , The grateful country of thy fires , VOL . VI . C Thee Thee to fublimer paths demand ; Sublimer than thy fires [ 33 ]
... , O progeny of heroes old , Thee to feverer toils thy fate requires : The fate which form'd thee in a chofen mould , The grateful country of thy fires , VOL . VI . C Thee Thee to fublimer paths demand ; Sublimer than thy fires [ 33 ]
Side 38
... toils which patriots have endur'd , For treafon quell'd and laws fecur'd , In every nation Time displays The palm of honourable praise . Dr. Benjamin Hoadly , fucceffively Bishop of Bangor , Hereford , Salisbury , and Winchester ; a ...
... toils which patriots have endur'd , For treafon quell'd and laws fecur'd , In every nation Time displays The palm of honourable praise . Dr. Benjamin Hoadly , fucceffively Bishop of Bangor , Hereford , Salisbury , and Winchester ; a ...
Side 41
... toils And her triumphal throne ! The shade Of death , mean time , does oft invade Her progrefs ; nor , to us display'd , Wears the bright heroine her expected spoils . III . 2 . Yet born to conquer is her power : -O Hoadly , if that ...
... toils And her triumphal throne ! The shade Of death , mean time , does oft invade Her progrefs ; nor , to us display'd , Wears the bright heroine her expected spoils . III . 2 . Yet born to conquer is her power : -O Hoadly , if that ...
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Amalthea bard beauty behold beneath bleffings bleft boaſt bofom breaſt cauſe charms eaſe Edonian Ev'n facred fafe fage faid fair fame fate fear feat fenfe fhade fhall fhew fhine fide figh filent fince firſt fmiles focial foft folemn fome fong fons foon footh foul freſh friendſhip ftill fuch fure fweet fwelling genius GEORGE SIMON HARCOURT glory grace gueſt hand heart heaven himſelf honour laſt lefs loft lyre meaſure mind moſt Mufe Muft Muſe muſt Naiads ne'er numbers Nymphs o'er paffion peace Pindar pleaſe pleaſure praiſe purſue raiſe reaſon reft reign reſt rife round ſcene ſhade ſhall ſhe ſhould ſky ſpeak ſpirit ſpread ſprings ſtands ſtate ſteps ſtill ſtrain ſtream ſweet taſk taſte thee thefe theſe thofe thoſe thou thouſand toil vale virtue whilft whofe Whoſe wife WILLIAM WHITEHEAD wings youth
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Side 340 - Fair laughs the Morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes: Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm: Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That hush'd in grim repose expects his evening prey.
Side 340 - Mighty victor, mighty lord! Low on his funeral couch he lies! No pitying heart, no eye, afford A tear to grace his obsequies.
Side 327 - Perching on the sceptred hand Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feather'd king With ruffled plumes, and flagging wing : Quench'd in dark clouds of slumber lie The terror of his beak, and lightnings of his eye.
Side 339 - Robed in the sable garb of woe, With haggard eyes the Poet stood ; Loose his beard, and hoary hair Stream'd, like a meteor, to the troubled air And, with a Master's hand, and Prophet's fire, Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre.
Side 335 - Though he inherit Nor the pride, nor ample pinion, That the Theban eagle bear, Sailing with supreme dominion Through the azure deep of air...
Side 344 - Fond impious Man, think'st thou yon sanguine cloud Rais'd by thy breath, has quench'd the Orb of day? To-morrow he repairs the golden flood, And warms the nations with redoubled ray. Enough for me: With joy I see The different doom our Fates assign : Be thine Despair and scept'red Care ; To triumph and to die are mine.
Side 9 - The ruins, with a silent tear revolves The fame and fortune of imperious Rome. You too, O Nymphs, and your unenvious aid The rural powers confess ; and still prepare For you their choicest treasures.
Side 328 - 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 326 - The laughing flowers, that round them blow, Drink life and fragrance as they flow. Now the rich stream of music winds along, Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong, Through verdant vales, and Ceres...
Side 336 - Thro' the azure deep of air : Yet oft before his infant eyes would run Such forms as glitter in the Muse's ray, With orient hues, unborrow'd of the sun : Yet shall he mount, and keep his distant way Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate, Beneath the Good how far — but far above the Great. THE BARD. A Pindaric Ode. I. i. seize thee, ruthless King ! Confusion on thy banners wait ; Tho' fann'd by Conquest's crimson wing, They mock the air with idle state.