The travellers

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Page 91 - The isles of Greece ! the isles of Greece ! "Where burning Sappho loved and sung, — Where grew the arts of war and peace, Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung ! Eternal summer gilds them yet, But all, except their sun, is set.
Page 213 - Must we but blush? Our fathers bled. Earth! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead! Of the three hundred grant but three To make a new Thermopylae ! What, silent still?
Page 91 - The Scian and the Teian muse, The hero's harp, the lover's lute, Have found the fame your shores refuse: Their place of birth alone is mute To sounds which echo further west Than your sires
Page 162 - THERE is no kind of false wit which has been so recommended by the practice of all ages, as that which consists in a jingle of words, and is comprehended under the general name of punning. It is indeed impossible to kill a weed, which the soil has a natural disposition to produce.
Page 91 - Nay, do not think I flatter; For what advancement may I hope from thee, That no revenue hast but thy good spirits To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flatter'd? No; let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee Where thrift may follow fawning.
Page 84 - At this the challenger, with fierce defy, His trumpet sounds; the challenged makes reply: With clangour rings the field, resounds the vaulted sky. Their vizors closed, their lances in the rest, Or at the helmet pointed or the crest, They vanish from the barrier, speed the race, And spurring see decrease the middle space.
Page 200 - Heaven takes thee at thy word, without regard, And lets thee poorly be thy own reward. The world is made for the bold impious man, Who stops at nothing, seizes all he can. Justice to merit does weak aid afford ; She trusts her balance, and neglects her sword. Virtue is nice to take what's not her own ; And, while she long consults, the prize is gone.
Page 119 - How great the shame, when every age shall know That not a Grecian met this noble foe ! Go then ! resolve to earth, from whence ye grew, A heartless, spiritless, inglorious crew ! Be what ye seem, unanimated clay ! Myself will dare the danger of the day ; Tis man's bold task the generous strife to try, But in the hands of God is victory.
Page 177 - What hinder'd either in their native soil At ease to reap the harvest of their toil? But Love, their lord, did otherwise ordain...
Page 150 - Almanzor," to the present circumstances of things, without discovering what my knowledge in astronomy suggests to me. When empire in its childhood first appears, A watchful fate o'er sees its tender years: Till grown more strong, it thrusts and stretches out, And elbows all the kingdoms round about. The place thus made for its first breathing free, It moves again for ease and luxury; Till swelling by degrees it has possest The greater space, and now crowds up the rest.

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