The Works of the English Poets: Dyer; Mallet

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H. Hughs, 1779
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Page 4 - But transient is the smile of Fate ! A little rule, a little sway, A sunbeam in a winter's day, Is all the proud and mighty have Between the cradle and the grave.
Page 3 - That cast an awful look below; Whose ragged walls the ivy creeps, And with her arms from falling keeps ; So both a safety from the wind On mutual dependence find. 'Tis now the raven's bleak abode; 'Tis now th...
Page 12 - Th' enormous amphitheatre behold — Mountainous pile ! o'er whose capacious womb Pours the broad firmament its varied light ; While from the central floor the seats ascend...
Page 132 - And catch at last his bushy brow. Oh! how fresh, how pure the air! Let me breathe a little here. Where am I, Nature? I descry Thy magazine before me lie. Temples! and towns! and towers! and woods! And hills! and vales! and fields! and floods! Crowding before me, edg'd around With naked wilds, and barren ground.
Page 2 - Does the face of Nature show In all the hues of heaven's bow, And, swelling to embrace the light, Spreads around beneath the sight.
Page 124 - E'en in the fiftieth latitude. Say why, (If ye, the travell'd sons of Commerce, know) Wherefore lie bound their rivers, lakes, and dales, Half the Sun's annual course, in chains of ice ? While the Rhine's fertile shore, and Gallic realms, By the same zone encircled, long enjoy Warm beams of Phoebus, and, supine, behold Their plains and hillocks blush with clustering vines.
Page 5 - Ever charming, ever new, When will the landscape tire the view! The fountain's fall, the river's flow, The woody valleys warm and low; The windy summit, wild and high, Roughly rushing on the sky; The pleasant seat, the ruined tower, The naked rock, the shady bower; The town and village, dome and farm, Each give each a double charm, As pearls upon an Ethiop's arm.
Page 5 - As yon summits soft and fair, Clad in colours of the air Which to those who journey near Barren, brown and rough appear: Still we tread the same coarse way; The present's still a cloudy day.
Page 1 - Silent nymph, with curious eye, Who, the purple evening, lie On the mountain's lonely van, Beyond the noise of busy man ; Painting fair the form of things, While the yellow linnet sings ; Or the tuneful nightingale Charms the forest with her tale...
Page 3 - In all the hues of heaven's bow ; And, swelling to embrace the light, Spreads around beneath the sight. Old castles on the cliffs arise, Proudly...

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