The Works of the English Poets: Akenside

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H. Hughs, 1779
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Page 150 - Wheeling unshaken through the void immense ; And speak, O man ! does this capacious scene With half that kindling majesty dilate Thy strong conception, as when Brutus rose Refulgent from the stroke of Caesar's fate, Amid the crowd of patriots ; and his arm Aloft extending, like eternal Jove When guilt brings down the thunder, call'd aloud On Tully's name, and shook his crimson steel, And bade the father of his country hail ? For lo ! the tyrant prostrate on the dust, And Rome again is free...
Page 82 - Eternal Maker has ordain'd The powers of man; we feel within ourselves His energy divine; he tells the heart, He meant, he made us to behold and love What he beholds and loves, the general orb Of life and being ; to be great like him, Beneficent and active.
Page 80 - Hence when lightning fires The arch of Heaven, and thunders rock the ground. When furious whirlwinds rend the howling air, And Ocean, groaning from his lowest bed, Heaves his tempestuous billows to the sky ; Amid the mighty uproar, while below The nations tremble, SHAKSPEARE looks abroad From some high cliff, superior, and enjoys The elemental war.
Page 57 - Oh ! he will tell thee, that the wealth of worlds Should ne'er seduce his bosom to forego That sacred hour...
Page 81 - Distils her dews, and from the silken gem Its lucid leaves unfolds; for him, the hand Of Autumn tinges every fertile branch With blooming gold and blushes like the morn.
Page 74 - O'er these mixt treasures of his pregnant breast, With conscious pride. From them he oft resolves To frame he knows not what excelling things ; And win he knows not what sublime reward Of praise and wonder.
Page 68 - Thee too, facetious Momion, wandering here, Thee, dreaded censor, oft have I beheld Bewilder'd unawares : alas ! too long Flush'd with thy comic triumphs and the spoils Of sly Derision ! till on every side Hurling thy random bolts, offended Truth Assign'd thee here thy station with the slaves Of Folly.
Page 20 - Maker said, That not in humble nor in brief delight, Not in the fading echoes of Renown, Power's purple robes, nor Pleasure's flowery lap, The soul should find enjoyment : but from these Turning disdainful to an equal good, Through all the...
Page 25 - Thus was Beauty sent from heaven, The lovely ministress of truth and good In this dark world : for truth and good are one, And Beauty dwells in them, and they in her, With like participation.
Page 36 - To priestly domination and the lust Of lawless courts, their amiable toil For three inglorious ages have resign'd, In vain reluctant : and Torquato's tongue...

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