The Works of the English Poets: Congreve and Fenton

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H. Hughs, 1779

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Page 53 - FALSE though she be to me and love, I'll ne'er pursue revenge; For still the charmer I approve, Though I deplore her change. In hours of bliss we oft have met, They could not always last; And though the present I regret, I'm grateful for the past.
Page 56 - See! see, she wakes — Sabina wakes! And now the sun begins to rise: Less glorious is the morn, that breaks From his bright beams, than her fair eyes. With light united day they give; But different fates ere night fulfil: How many by his warmth will live! How many will her coldness kill!
Page 154 - But there is that great Deference due to the Memory, great Parts, and Learning of that Gentleman, that I think nothing should be objected to the Latitude he has taken in his Pindarique Odes.
Page 316 - Though lions there are tolerably tame, And civil as the court from which they came. But yet, without experience, sense, or arts, Pumilio boasts sufficiency of parts ; Imagines he alone is amply fit To guide the state, or give the stamp to wit: Pride paints the mind with an heroic air, Nor finds he a defect of vigour there. When Philomel of old essay'd to sing...
Page 181 - Unknown, and loft, far from my native Home. But I conjure you, by the Throne of Jove, By all that's dear to you, by all you love, By your good Parents, (for no bad, could e'er Produce a Son...
Page 67 - So now, whatever praife from us is due, Belongs not to old Perfius, but the new. For ftill obfcure, to us no light he gives ; Dead in himfelf, in you alone he lives. So ftubborn flints their inward heat conceal, Till art and force th...
Page 231 - Again he beats.—It curls again ! At length he bellow'd in a rage, ' This hair will take me up an age.
Page 71 - Devote thyfelf to Thrift, not Luxury •; And wifely make that kind of Food thy Choice, To which Neceffity confines thy Price. Well may they fear fome miferable End, Whom Gluttony and Want, at once attend; Whofe large voracious Throats have fwallow'd All, Both Land and Stock, Int'reft and Principal: Well may they fear, at length, vile (9) Pollio's Fate, Who fold his very Ring to purchafe Meat; And tho' a Knight, 'mongft common Slaves now ftands, Begging an Alms, with undiftinguifht Hands.
Page 100 - Heart; Too well I know the Force of inward Grief, And well can bear it, to give you relief: All Love's fevereft Pangs I can endure; I can bear Pain, tho
Page 232 - But sometimes stoop'd to please a barbarous age : When his immortal bays began to grow Rude was the language, and the humour low ; He, like the God of day, was always bright, But rolling in its course, his orb of light Was sullied, and obscur'd, though soaring high, With spots contracted from the nether sky. But whither is the...

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