A Collection of Poems in Six Volumes, Volume 6Robert Dodsley J. Dodsley, 1782 - English poetry |
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Page 16
... pride of kings ' Was ever fcorn'd by Pallas : and of old Rejoic'd the virgin , from the brazen prow Of Athens o'er a Ægina's gloomy furge , To drive her clouds and forms ; o'erwhelming all The Perfian's promis'd glory , when the realms ...
... pride of kings ' Was ever fcorn'd by Pallas : and of old Rejoic'd the virgin , from the brazen prow Of Athens o'er a Ægina's gloomy furge , To drive her clouds and forms ; o'erwhelming all The Perfian's promis'd glory , when the realms ...
Page 35
... pride , what priestly rage , Have her dread offspring conquer'd or fuftain'd ! For Albion well have conquer'd . Let the strains Of happy fwains , Which now refound Where Scarsdale's cliffs the fwelling paftures bound , Bear witness ...
... pride , what priestly rage , Have her dread offspring conquer'd or fuftain'd ! For Albion well have conquer'd . Let the strains Of happy fwains , Which now refound Where Scarsdale's cliffs the fwelling paftures bound , Bear witness ...
Page 45
... pride Of fair Matilda fank him to the grave In manhood's prime . But foon did righteous heaven With tears , with fharp remorfe , and pining care , Avenge her falfhood : nor could all the gold And nuptial pomp , which lur'd her plighted ...
... pride Of fair Matilda fank him to the grave In manhood's prime . But foon did righteous heaven With tears , with fharp remorfe , and pining care , Avenge her falfhood : nor could all the gold And nuptial pomp , which lur'd her plighted ...
Page 51
... pride , The swelling dome's imperial gleam , Which lov'd to grace the verdant fide , And tremble in thy golden ftream ? Where are the bold , the busy throngs , That rush'd impatient to the war , Or tun'd to peace triumphal fongs , And ...
... pride , The swelling dome's imperial gleam , Which lov'd to grace the verdant fide , And tremble in thy golden ftream ? Where are the bold , the busy throngs , That rush'd impatient to the war , Or tun'd to peace triumphal fongs , And ...
Page 52
Robert Dodsley. Did here , in after - times of Roman pride , The mufing fhepherd from Soracte's height See towns extend where'er thy waters glide , And temples rife , and peopled farms unite è They did . For this deserted plain The Hero ...
Robert Dodsley. Did here , in after - times of Roman pride , The mufing fhepherd from Soracte's height See towns extend where'er thy waters glide , And temples rife , and peopled farms unite è They did . For this deserted plain The Hero ...
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Common terms and phrases
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
Popular passages
Page 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.
Page 340 - Mighty victor, mighty lord! Low on his funeral couch he lies! No pitying heart, no eye, afford A tear to grace his obsequies.
Page 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.
Page 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.
Page 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...
Page 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.
Page 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.
Page 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.
Page 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...
Page 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.