The Works of the English Poets: Savage

H. Hughs, 1779


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第 39 頁 - Can its foot sharpen, like the vulture's claw? Can the fond goat, or tender fleecy dam, Howl, like the wolf, to tear the kid, or lamb? Yes, there are mothers...
第 86 頁 - Far be the guilt of homeshed blood from all On whom, unsought, embroiling dangers fall ! Still the pale dead revives, and lives to me, To me ! through Pity's eye condemn'd to see.
第 175 頁 - Loose-strung, run jingling into history's name. Thick as Egyptian clouds of raining flies ; As thick as worms where man corrupting lies ; As pests obscene that haunt the ruin'd pile ; As monsters floundering in the muddy Nile ; Minutes, Memoirs, Views, and Reviews appear, Where slander darkens each recorded year.
第 191 頁 - Thy sons, though crafty, deaf to wisdom's call; Despising all men, and despised by all. Sons, while thy cliffs a ditch-like river laves, Rude as thy rocks, and muddy as thy waves ; Of thoughts -as narrow as of words immense, As full of turbulence as void of sense : Thee, thee, what senatorial souls adorn ? Thy natives sure would prove a senate's scorn.
第 87 頁 - Which gives at once a life, and rears a mind ? Mother, miscalled, farewell ! Of soul severe, This sad reflection yet may force one tear : All I was wretched by...
第 175 頁 - Some ring or letter now reveals th' intrigue : Queens, with their minions, work unfeemly things, And boys grow dukes, when catamites to kings. Does a prince die ? What poifons they furmife ! No royal mortal fure by nature dies.
第 88 頁 - Her fmile more cheerful than a vernal morn, All life ! all bloom ! of Youth and Fancy born. Touch'd into joy, what hearts to her fubmit ! She looks her Sire, and fpeaks her Mother's wit. O'er the gay world the fweet infpirer reigns . Spleen flies, and Elegance her pomp fuftains.
第 20 頁 - twixt thy foe and thee ; Truth from an eminence surveys our scene, (A hill, where all is clear, and all serene.) Kude earth-bred storms o'er meaner valleys blow, And wandering mists roll, blackening, far below; Dark, and debas'd, like them, is Envy's aim, And clear, and eminent, like Truth, thy fame.
第 19 頁 - Socrates inspire her pain, And Pope, the monarch of the tuneful train ! To whom be Nature's, and Britannia's praise ! All their bright honours rush into his lays ! And all that glorious warmth his lays reveal, Which only poets, kings, and patriots feel...
第 100 頁 - Two Fathers join'd to rob my Claim of one ! My Mother too thought fit to have no Son ! The Senate next...