New Elegant Extracts: A Unique Selection from the Most Eminent British Poets and Poetical Translators, Volume 6

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C. and C. Whittingham, 1824

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Page 12 - My soul impels me to the' embattled plains ; Let me be foremost to defend the throne, And guard my father's glories and my own. ' Yet come it will, the day decreed by fates; (How my heart trembles while my tongue relates !) The day when thou, imperial Troy! must bfend, And see thy warriors fall, thy glories end.
Page 260 - To horse, to horse ! halloo, halloo ! His fiery courser snuffs the morn, And thronging serfs their lord pursue. The eager pack, from couples freed, Dash through the bush, the brier, the brake ; While answering hound, and horn, and steed, The mountain echoes startling wake. The beams of God's own hallow'd day Had painted yonder spire with gold, And, calling sinful man to pray, Loud, long, and deep the bell had toll'd...
Page 202 - Require the borrow'd gloss of art ? Speak not of fate : ah ! change the theme, And talk of odours, talk of wine, Talk of the flowers that round us bloom : 'Tis all a cloud, 'tis all a dream ; To love and joy thy thoughts confine, Nor hope to pierce the sacred gloom.
Page 12 - Yet while my Hector still survives, I see My father, mother, brethren, all, in thee: Alas! my parents, brothers, kindred, all Once more will perish, if my Hector fall, Thy wife, thy infant, in thy danger share: Oh, prove a husband's and a father's care! That quarter most the skilful Greeks annoy, Where yon...
Page 36 - Visits each plant, and waters all the ground: While that in pipes beneath the palace flows, And thence its current on the town bestows; To various use their various streams they bring, The People one, and one supplies the King.
Page 27 - Think each office paid, Whate'er can rest a discontented shade ; But grant one last embrace, unhappy boy! Afford at least that melancholy joy.
Page 26 - He spoke : they hear him, and the word obey ; The rage of hunger and of thirst allay, Then ease in sleep the labours of the day. But great Pelides...
Page 73 - Twas this deprived my soul of rest, And rais'd such tumults in my breast ; For while I gaz'd, in transport tost, My breath was gone, my voice was lost : My bosom glow'd ; the subtle flame Ran quick through all my vital frame ; O'er my dim eyes a darkness hung ; My ears with hollow murmurs rung.
Page 6 - He hides the hero with his mighty shade, And threats aloud ! the Greeks with longing eyes Behold at distance, but forbear the prize. Then fierce Tydides stoops ; and from the fields Heaved with vast force, a rocky fragment wields. Not two strong men the...
Page 72 - O mother ! — I am wounded through I die with pain— in sooth I do ! Stung by some little angry thing, Some serpent on a tiny wing — A bee it was — for once, I know, I heard a rustic call it so.

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