The Works of the English Poets, Volume 26Samuel Johnson C. Bathurst, 1779 |
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Page 5
... mind , Prone to extremes , an equal danger find , And be to fordid avarice inclin'd . Distant alike from each , to neither lean , But ever keep the happy Golden Mean . Be careful still to guard thy soul from wrong , And let thy thought ...
... mind , Prone to extremes , an equal danger find , And be to fordid avarice inclin'd . Distant alike from each , to neither lean , But ever keep the happy Golden Mean . Be careful still to guard thy soul from wrong , And let thy thought ...
Page 6
... mind repay , And to thy fecret self with pleasure say , Rejoice , my heart , for all went well to - day . Thefe thoughts , and chiefly these thy mind should move , Employ thy study , and engage thy love . These are the rules which will ...
... mind repay , And to thy fecret self with pleasure say , Rejoice , my heart , for all went well to - day . Thefe thoughts , and chiefly these thy mind should move , Employ thy study , and engage thy love . These are the rules which will ...
Page 10
... minds did move , And those who fought for freedom , figh'd for love . Like one , thofe facred flames united live , At once they languish , and once revive ; Alike they fhun the coward and the flave , 55 60 65 70 But blefs the free , the ...
... minds did move , And those who fought for freedom , figh'd for love . Like one , thofe facred flames united live , At once they languish , and once revive ; Alike they fhun the coward and the flave , 55 60 65 70 But blefs the free , the ...
Page 20
... mind Is ever to the public good inclin'd , Is ftill the tyrant's foe , and patron of mankind . Behold where Marlborough , thy last best gift , At parting to thy native Belgia left , Succeeds to all thy kind paternal cares , Thy watchful ...
... mind Is ever to the public good inclin'd , Is ftill the tyrant's foe , and patron of mankind . Behold where Marlborough , thy last best gift , At parting to thy native Belgia left , Succeeds to all thy kind paternal cares , Thy watchful ...
Page 25
... propt his throne , And to four volumes let his Plays run on ; Then a lewd tide of verfe , with vicious rage , Broke in upon the morals of the age . } The The Stage ( whofe art was once the mind to EPISTLE TO FLAVIA . 25.
... propt his throne , And to four volumes let his Plays run on ; Then a lewd tide of verfe , with vicious rage , Broke in upon the morals of the age . } The The Stage ( whofe art was once the mind to EPISTLE TO FLAVIA . 25.
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Common terms and phrases
Ah willow Albion's arms Atreus Atrides beneath blefs bleft blood boaſt breaſt Britain's Britannia's Britiſh brow Cæfar's cauſe charms crown diftant divine doft dreadful Ev'n eyes facred fafe faid fair fam'd fame fate fatire fceptre fcorn fear feas fecret fhade fhall fhining fhore fhould fide fight filent fing fire firft firſt fix'd flain fleep fmiling foes fome fong footh foul ftand ftill ftreams fuch fwain fweet fwell fword Gaul goddeſs gods grace hand heart heaven hecatomb hero himſelf Iliad Jove juſt kings lefs lyre maid monarch mortal Mufe Muſe muſt ne'er Nereids numbers nymph o'er paffion peace pleaſure praiſe pride prieſt race rage raiſe reign rife riſe ſhade ſhall ſhare ſhe ſhine ſhore ſkies ſmile ſpeak ſpread ſpring ſtand ſtars ſtate ſtill ſtood ſweet thee thefe theſe thine thofe thoſe thou thought thouſand verſe whofe whoſe youth
Popular passages
Page 187 - Oh judge, my bosom by your own. What mourner ever felt poetic fires ! Slow comes the verse that real woe inspires : Grief unaffected suits but ill with art, Or flowing numbers with a bleeding heart.
Page 195 - Tyber's fhore, (Nor mean the tafk) each breathing buft explore, Line after line with painful patience trace, This Roman grandeur, that Athenian grace ; Vain care of parts ; if, impotent of foul, Th...
Page 53 - The last humble boon that I crave, Is to shade me with cypress and yew; And when she looks down on my grave, Let her own that her shepherd was true. " Then to her new love let her go, And deck her in golden array, Be finest at...
Page 189 - Or dost thou warn poor mortals left behind, A task well suited to thy gentle mind? Oh ! if sometimes thy spotless form descend : To me, thy aid, thou guardian genius, lend ! When rage misguides me, or when fear alarms, When pain distresses, or when pleasure charms, In silent whisperings purer thoughts impart, And turn from ill, a frail and feeble heart ; Lead through the paths thy virtue trod before, Till bliss shall join, nor death can part us more.
Page 124 - O'er his paternal hills of snow, And into these tremendous speeches Broke forth the prophet without breeches.
Page 206 - The Sun's meridian rays Veil the horizon in one mighty blaze : Nor moon nor star in Heaven's blue arch is seen With kindly rays to silver o'er the green, Grateful to fairy eyes ; they secret take Their rest, and only wretched mortals wake.
Page 120 - And view the hero with insatiate eyes. ' In Haga's towers he waits, till eastern gales Propitious rise to swell the British sails. Hither the fame of England's monarch brings The vows and friendships of the neighb'ring kings; Mature in wisdom, his extensive mind Takes in the blended interests of mankind, The world's great patriot.
Page 190 - If pensive to the rural shades I rove, His shape o'ertakes me in the lonely grove: Twas there of Just and Good he...
Page 109 - Accept, great Anne, the tears their memory draws, Who nobly perish'd in their sovereign's cause : For thou in pity bid'st the war give o'er, Mourn'st thy slain heroes, nor wilt venture more. Vast price of blood on each victorious day ! (But Europe's freedom doth that price repay.) Lamented triumphs ! when one breath must tell That Marlborough conquer'd, and that Dormer fell.
Page 200 - Midst greens and sweets, a regal fabric, stands, And sees each spring, luxuriant in her bowers, A snow of blossoms, and a wild of flowers, The dames of Britain oft in crowds repair To gravel walks, and unpolluted air. Here, while the town in damps and darkness lies, They breathe in sunshine, and see azure skies ; Each walk, with robes of various dyes bespread, Seems from afar a moving tulip-bed, Where rich brocades and glossy damasks glow, And chints, the rival of the showery bow.