Fables Antient and Modern: Translated Into Verse from Homer, Ovid, Boccace, and Chaucer: with Original PoemsJ. Tonson, 1713 - 550 pages |
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... whose Praises help'd to make him Popular while he was alive , and after his Death have made him Preci- ous to Pofterity . As for the Religion of our Poet , he feems to have fome little Byas towards the Opinions of Wickliff , after John ...
... whose Praises help'd to make him Popular while he was alive , and after his Death have made him Preci- ous to Pofterity . As for the Religion of our Poet , he feems to have fome little Byas towards the Opinions of Wickliff , after John ...
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... whose ample Hand Heav'dup the lighten'd Keel , and funk the Sand , And fteer'd the facred Vessel fafe to Land . The Land , if not reftrain'd , had met Your Way , Projected out a Neck , and jutted to the Sea . Hibernia , proftrate at ...
... whose ample Hand Heav'dup the lighten'd Keel , and funk the Sand , And fteer'd the facred Vessel fafe to Land . The Land , if not reftrain'd , had met Your Way , Projected out a Neck , and jutted to the Sea . Hibernia , proftrate at ...
Page 3
... whose Tale is beft , and pleases most , Should win his Supper at our common Cost , And therefore where I left , I will pursue This ancient Story , whether false or true , In hope it may be mended with a new . The Prince I mention'd ...
... whose Tale is beft , and pleases most , Should win his Supper at our common Cost , And therefore where I left , I will pursue This ancient Story , whether false or true , In hope it may be mended with a new . The Prince I mention'd ...
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... Whose breathless Bodies yet he calls his Foes . Unburn'd , unbury'd , on a Heap they lie ;. Such is their Fate , and fuch his Tyranny ; No Friend has leave to bear away the Dead , But with their Lifelefs Limbs his Hounds are fed : At ...
... Whose breathless Bodies yet he calls his Foes . Unburn'd , unbury'd , on a Heap they lie ;. Such is their Fate , and fuch his Tyranny ; No Friend has leave to bear away the Dead , But with their Lifelefs Limbs his Hounds are fed : At ...
Page 66
... Whose Voice , whofe graceful Dance did most fur- Soft am'rous Sighs , and filent Love of Eyes . [ prife , The Rivals call my Muse another way , To fing their Vigils for th ' enfuing Day . ' Twas ebbing Darkness , past the Noon of Night ...
... Whose Voice , whofe graceful Dance did most fur- Soft am'rous Sighs , and filent Love of Eyes . [ prife , The Rivals call my Muse another way , To fing their Vigils for th ' enfuing Day . ' Twas ebbing Darkness , past the Noon of Night ...
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Common terms and phrases
againſt Ajax Arcite Arms Baucis and Philemon becauſe beſt betwixt Blood Breaſt caft call'd Cauſe Ceyx Chaucer CHIG Cinyras cloſe cou'd cry'd Cymon Dame Death defcended Defire Eaſe Ev'n ev'ry Eyes facred fafe faid fair fame Fate Fear Feaſt fecret feem'd felf fent fhall fhou'd Fight fince firft firſt flain Flames Flow'rs fome foon forc'd fought ftill fuch Goddeſs Grace Hand Heart Heav'n himſelf Honour Houſe join'd Jove King Knight laft laſt leaſt lefs liv'd loft look'd lov'd Love Maid Mind moſt muſt Myrrha o'er Ovid Palamon plac'd pleas'd pleaſe Pleaſure Pow'r Praiſe Pray'r prepar'd preſent Prieſt Prince Publick purfu'd purſue Queen rais'd Reaſon refolv'd reft reſt rifing ſaid ſcarce ſeen ſelf Senfe ſhall ſhe Sire Soul ſpoke ſpread ſtill ſtood Tears Thebes thee thefe theſe thofe thoſe thou thought turn'd Twas whofe whoſe Wife Wiſhes wou'd
Popular passages
Page 374 - At last divine Cecilia came, Inventress of the vocal frame ; The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, Enlarged the former narrow bounds, And added length to solemn sounds, With nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before. Let old Timotheus yield the prize, Or both divide the crown ; He raised a mortal to the skies ; She drew an angel down.
Page 372 - Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries, See the furies arise ! See the snakes that they rear, How they hiss in their hair ! And the sparkles that flash from their eyes ! Behold a ghastly band, Each a torch in his hand...
Page 371 - War, he sung, is toil and trouble; Honour, but an empty bubble; Never ending, still beginning, Fighting still, and still destroying; If the world be worth thy winning, Think, O think it worth enjoying! Lovely Thais sits beside thee, Take the good the gods provide thee!
Page 89 - Bade cease the war ; pronouncing from on high, Arcite of Thebes had won the beauteous Emily. The sound of trumpets to the voice replied, And round the royal lists the heralds cried, Arcite of Thebes has won the beauteous bride.
Page 373 - And unburied remain Inglorious on the plain : Give the vengeance due To the valiant crew ! Behold how they toss their torches on high, How they point to the Persian abodes And glittering temples of their hostile gods.
Page 367 - None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave deserves the fair. Timotheus, plac'd on high Amid the tuneful quire, With flying fingers touch'd the lyre : The trembling notes ascend the sky, And heavenly joys inspire.
Page 170 - Such as it is, the' offence is all my own ; And what to Guiscard is already done, Or to be done, is doom'd by thy decree, That, if not executed first by thee, Shall on my person be perform'd by me.
Page 507 - Nothing reserved or sullen was to see; But sweet regards, and pleasing sanctity: Mild was his accent, and his action free. With eloquence innate his tongue was arm'd; Though harsh the precept, yet the preacher charm'd. For letting down the golden chain from high, He drew his audience upward to the sky...