A Collection of Poems in Six Volumes. By Several Hands, Volume 6Robert Dodsley J. Hughs, 1765 - English poetry |
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Page 9
... Fresh vigour to their weary limbs impart . Again they fly , difporting ; from the mead Half ripen'd and the tender blades of corn , To sweep the noxious mildew ; or dispel Contagious fteams , which oft the parched earth Breathes on her ...
... Fresh vigour to their weary limbs impart . Again they fly , difporting ; from the mead Half ripen'd and the tender blades of corn , To sweep the noxious mildew ; or dispel Contagious fteams , which oft the parched earth Breathes on her ...
Page 38
... Fresh garlands weave , and chace from all my bounds Each thing impure or noxious . Enter - in , O ftranger , undifmay'd . nor bat nor toad Here lurks and if thy breast of blameless thoughts Approve I Here ( 38 ) INSCRIPTIONS. ...
... Fresh garlands weave , and chace from all my bounds Each thing impure or noxious . Enter - in , O ftranger , undifmay'd . nor bat nor toad Here lurks and if thy breast of blameless thoughts Approve I Here ( 38 ) INSCRIPTIONS. ...
Page 40
... fresh water from the brook and ftrew Sweet - fmelling flow'rs . for there doth Edmund rest , The learned shepherd ; for each rural art Fam'd , and for fongs harmonious , and the woes Of ill - requited love . The faithlefs pride Of fair ...
... fresh water from the brook and ftrew Sweet - fmelling flow'rs . for there doth Edmund rest , The learned shepherd ; for each rural art Fam'd , and for fongs harmonious , and the woes Of ill - requited love . The faithlefs pride Of fair ...
Page 88
... fresh dews , and in the funshine play , And into nothing then diffolve away . 411 DA Are thefe our great purfuits , is this to live ? These all the hopes this much - lov'd world can give ! How much more worthy envy is their fate , Who ...
... fresh dews , and in the funshine play , And into nothing then diffolve away . 411 DA Are thefe our great purfuits , is this to live ? These all the hopes this much - lov'd world can give ! How much more worthy envy is their fate , Who ...
Page 152
... fresh vermilion - hue ; And those rough frosts which softer frames annoy With vig'rous health their slack'ning nerves renew . XVII . From the dark bofom of the dappled Morn To Phoebus fhining with meridian light , Or when mild Ev'ning ...
... fresh vermilion - hue ; And those rough frosts which softer frames annoy With vig'rous health their slack'ning nerves renew . XVII . From the dark bofom of the dappled Morn To Phoebus fhining with meridian light , Or when mild Ev'ning ...
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Common terms and phrases
bard beauty behold beneath beſt beſtow bleffings bleft boaſt bofom breaſt charms Chlorinda cloſe diftant eaſe Ev'n facred fafe fage fair fame fate feat fenfe fhade fhall fhew fhine fide figh filent fince firſt flow'rs fmile foft folar folemn fome fong fons foul fpring freſh friendſhip ftate ftill fuch fure fweet genius glory Goddeſs grace grove gueſt hand heart heav'n himſelf inſpires juſt laſt lefs loft lyre mind moſt Mufe muft Muſe muſt Naiads ne'er numbers Nymphs o'er paffion peace plain pleas'd pleaſe pleaſure pow'r praiſe purſue raiſe reft reſt rife rofe ſcene ſhade ſhall ſhe ſhould ſky ſmile ſome ſpeak ſpirit ſpread ſtand ſtate ſteps ſtill ſtood ſtrains ſtream ſtrong ſweet taſk taſte thee theſe thofe thoſe thou thouſand toil truth vale virtue Whilft whofe Whoſe wife wings Wiſdom youth
Popular passages
Page 391 - On a rock, whose haughty brow Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood, 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 397 - That lost in long futurity expire. Fond impious man, think'st thou yon sanguine cloud Raised 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 sceptred Care, To triumph and to die are mine.
Page 392 - Far, far aloof th' affrighted ravens sail ; The famish'd eagle screams, and passes by. Dear lost companions of my tuneful art, Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes, Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, Ye died amidst your dying country's cries — No more I weep. They do not sleep. On yonder cliffs, a...
Page 392 - Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, Ye died amidst your dying country's cries — No more I weep : they do not sleep ! On yonder cliffs, a grisly band, I see them sit; they linger yet Avengers of their native land : With me in dreadful harmony they join, And weave with bloody hands the tissue of thy line.
Page 389 - Closed his eyes in endless night. Behold where Dryden's less presumptuous car Wide o'er the fields of Glory bear Two coursers of ethereal race, With necks in thunder clothed, and long-resounding pace Hark, his hands the lyre explore! Bright-eyed Fancy, hovering o'er, Scatters from her pictured urn Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn. But ah ! 'tis heard no more — Oh ! Lyre divine, what daring Spirit Wakes thee now ! Tho...
Page 392 - With me in dreadful harmony they join, And weave with bloody hands the tissue of thy line. II. 1 'Weave the warp and weave the woof, The winding-sheet of Edward's race; Give ample room and verge enough The characters of hell to trace...
Page 393 - 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 385 - 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 389 - 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 ! ODE VI.
Page 388 - This pencil take (she said), whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year : Thine too these golden keys, immortal Boy ! This can unlock the gates of joy ; Of horror that...