A Collection of Poems in Six Volumes. By Several Hands: With Notes
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appear arms beauty beneath born breaſt charms court crowd death died dreadful Earl Ev'n eyes face facred fair fall fame fate fear fecret fhade fhall fields fight fing fire flow foes fome fons foul ftill fuch give grace grave half hand head hear heart heav'n Hence honour hope hour joys kind king land laws learned leave light live loft look Lord mean mind move Mufe muft nature never night o'er once paffion pain peace play pleaſe pleaſure praiſe pride prince proud Queen rage reign rife round rule ſhall ſhe taught thee thefe theſe things thoſe thou thought true truth turn uſe vain various virtue whofe wife wind youth
Page 284 - ... verum ubi plura nitent in carmine, non ego paucis offendar maculis, quas aut incuria fudit aut humana parum cavit natura.
Page 241 - While partial Fame doth with her blasts adorn Such deeds alone as pride and pomp disguise; Deeds of ill sort, and mischievous emprize...
Page 225 - Wide and wider spreads the vale, As circles on a smooth canal ; The mountains round, unhappy fate! Sooner or later, of all height, Withdraw their summits from the skies...
Page 225 - 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 211 - The drama's laws, the drama's patrons give, For we that live to please, must please to live.
Page 336 - Whose numbers, stealing through thy darkening vale, May not unseemly with its stillness suit ; As musing slow I hail Thy genial loved return. For when thy folding-star * arising shows His paly circlet, at his warning lamp The fragrant Hours, and Elves Who slept in buds the day, And many a Nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge And sheds the freshening dew, and lovelier still The pensive Pleasures sweet Prepare thy shadowy car.
Page 335 - How sleep the brave, who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung ; By forms unseen their dirge is sung : There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there ! TO MERCY.
Page 249 - And gives a loose at last to unavailing woe. But ah ! what pen his piteous plight may trace ? Or what device his loud laments explain? The form uncouth of his disguised face ? The pallid hue that dyes his looks amain ? The plenteous shower that does his cheek distain...
Page 209 - WHEN Learning's triumph o'er her barbarous foes First rear'd the stage, immortal Shakespeare rose; Each change of many-colour'd life he drew, Exhausted worlds, and then imagin'd new: Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign, And panting Time toil'd after him in vain. His powerful strokes presiding truth impress'd, And unresisted passion storm'd the breast.
Page 225 - In all the hues of heaven's bow, And, swelling to embrace the light, Spreads around beneath the sight.