The Poetical Works ...: With the Life of the Author

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B. Johnson, J. Johnson and R. Johnson, 1805 - 132页
 

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第22页 - Is not a patron, my Lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man struggling for life in the water, and when he has reached ground encumbers him with help...
第21页 - is recommended to the public, were written by your lordship. To be so distinguished, is an honour, which, being very little accustomed to favours from the great, I know not well how to receive, or in what terms to acknowledge.
第69页 - twas wild. But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair, What was thy delighted measure? Still it whispered promised pleasure, And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail ! Still would her touch the strain prolong; And from the rocks, the woods, the vale, She called on Echo still, through all the song : And, where her sweetest theme she chose, A soft responsive voice was heard at every close, And Hope enchanted smiled, and waved her golden hair.
第21页 - To fair Fidele's grassy tomb Soft maids and village hinds shall bring ' Each opening sweet, of earliest bloom, And rifle all the breathing Spring. No wailing ghost shall dare appear To vex with shrieks this quiet grove ; But shepherd lads assemble here, And melting virgins own their love. No...
第71页 - Tis said, and I believe the tale, Thy humblest reed could more prevail Had more of strength, diviner rage, Than all which charms this laggard age...
第58页 - With every wild absurdity comply, And view each object with another's eye ; To shake with laughter ere the jest they hear, To pour at will the counterfeited tear ; And, as their patron hints the cold or heat, To shake in dogdays, in December sweat. How, when competitors like these contend, Can surly Virtue hope to fix a friend...
第60页 - If aught of oaten stop, or pastoral song, May hope, chaste eve, to soothe thy modest ear. Like thy own solemn springs, Thy springs, and dying gales...
第80页 - Ah ! let not censure term our fate our choice, The stage but echoes back the public voice; The drama's laws, the drama's patrons give, For we that live to please, must please to live.
第99页 - The busy day, the peaceful night, Unfelt, uncounted, glided by; His frame was firm — his powers were bright, Though now his eightieth year was nigh. Then with no fiery throbbing pain, No cold gradations of decay, Death broke at once the vital chain, And freed his soul the nearest way.
第68页 - Speak thou, whose thoughts at humble peace repine, Shall Wolsey's wealth, with Wolsey's end be thine? Or liv'st thou now, with safer pride content, The wisest justice on the banks of Trent? For why did Wolsey near the steeps of fate, On weak foundations raise th

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