A Collection of Poems: In Six Volumes, Volume 2

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J. Hughs, 1765 - English poetry

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Page 316 - Some bold adventurers difdain The limits of their little reign, And unknown regions dare defcry : Still as they run, they look behind, They hear a voice in every wind, And fnatch a fearful joy. Gay hope is theirs by fancy fed, Lefs pleafing when
Page 318 - age. To each his fuff'rings : all are men, Condemn'd alike to groan, The tender for another's pain; Th' unfeeling for his own. Yet ah ! why fhould they know their fate! Since forrow never comes too late, And happinefs too fwiftly flies. Thought would deftroy their paradife. No more -, where ignorance is blifs, 'Tis folly to be wife. OD E.
Page 320 - IV. To Contemplation's fober eye Such is the race of man: And they that creep, and they that fly, Shall end where they began. Alike the bufy and the gay But flutter through life's little day, In fortune's varying colours
Page 85 - could alone your warbling notes excel.. IV. In vain I look around O'er all the well-known ground My Lucy's wonted footfteps to defcry \ Where oft we us'd to walk, Where oft in tender talk We faw the fummer fun go down the fky j Nor by yon fountain's fide, Nor where its waters
Page 318 - Lo, in the vale of years beneath, A griefly troop are feen, The painful family of death, More hideous than their queen: This racks the joints, this fires the veins
Page 45 - now, nor Umbria's plain they love, Nor on the banks of Nar, or Mincius rove; To Thames's flow'ry borders they retire, And kindle in thy breaft the Roman fire. So in the fhades, where cheer'd with fummer rays Melodious linnets warbled fprightly lays, Soon as the faded, falling leaves complain Of gloomy Winter's unaufpicious reign,
Page 47 - Great Bard, whofe numbers I myfelf infpire, ■To whom I gave my own harmonious lyre, If high exalted on the throne of Wit, Near me and Homer thou afpire to fit, No more let meaner Satire dim the rays That flow majeftic from thy nobler bays; In all the
Page 46 - Oft kifs, with lips devout, fome mould'ring ftone, With ivy's venerable fhade o'ergrown ; Thofe hallow'd ruins better pleas'd to fee Than all the pomp of modern luxury. As late on Virgil's tomb frefh flow'rs I ftrow'd, While with th' infpiring Mufe my bofom glow'd, Crown'd with eternal bays my ravilh'd eyes Beheld the poet's
Page 58 - 7 HEN Delia on the plain appears, * * Aw'd by a thoufand tender fears, I would approach, but dare not move ;'— Tell me, my Heart, if this be Love. II. Whene'er fhe fpeaks, my ravifh'd ear No other voice but
Page 61 - VI. All I of Venus afk, is this ; No more to let us join; But grant me here the flatt'ring blifs, To Die and Think you mine. DAMON and DELIA. In Imitation of Horace and Lydia. Written in the Year 1732. By the Same. Damon. TELL me, my Delia, tell me why My kindeft,

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