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The Works of the English Poets. with Prefaces, Biographical and Critical, by ...
English Poets,Samuel Johnson
No preview available - 2015
Æschylus Apollo arms blessing blest blood brave breast Cæfar CHARLES DRYDEN charms dæmon dare delight desence discommend dull e'er Earl of Roscommon ease Eclogue ev'n eyes facred fad grave fame fancy fate fatire faults foes follies fools foul fuch Gods grace grave he lies happy hath heart heaven honour hope Horace humble kind kings knaves labour laurels lise live lofty Lord lov'd lucky character Lucretius maid mankind mighty mind Monaeses Monsieur Song Muse nature ne'er never numbers nymphs o'er pains peace persect pleas'd pleasure Poems poets poison'd praise pride rage rais'd rhymes rise royal scorn Scythian sear seast seem'd sense shew Silenus sing sirst Swist tears Telephus tell thee things thought throne translated true turn'd Twas twill verse Whilst Windsor Castle wise words Worthy thy song wretched writ write youth
Page 125 - Prostrate my contrite heart I rend, My God, my Father, and my Friend, Do not forsake me in my end.
Page 179 - Twas far from any path, but where the Earth Was bare, and naked all as at her birth, When by the Word it first was made, Ere God had said, Let grass, and herds, and every green thing grow, With fruitful trees after their kind, and it was so.
Page 84 - By chaste instruction of her tender years. The first impression in her infant breast Will be the deepest, and should be the best Let not austerity breed servile fear, No wanton sound offend her virgin ear.
Page 180 - My parents not obfcure, nor high in titles were, They left me heir to no difgrace. My father was (a thing now rare) Loyal and brave, my mother chafte and fair : The pledge of marriage-vows was only I ; Alone I liv'd their much-lov'd fondled boy...
Page 176 - THE ENCHANTMENT I DID but look and love awhile, 'Twas but for one half-hour; Then to resist I had no will, And now I have no power. To sigh and wish is all my ease; Sighs which do heat impart Enough to melt the coldest ice, Yet cannot warm your heart. O would your pity give my heart One corner of your breast, 'Twould learn of yours the winning art, And quickly steal the rest.
Page 200 - With fpoils of viftory and glory fraught. To him then every heart was open, down From the great man to the clown: In him rejoic'd, to him inclin'd ; And as his health round the glad board did pafs, Each honeft fellow cry'd, Fill full my glafs ; And fhew'd the fullnefs of his mind.
Page 20 - Like transitory dreams given o'er, Whose images are kept in store By memory alone. The time that is to come is not; How can it then be mine? The present moment's all my lot; And that, as fast as it is got, Phillis, is only thine.
Page 122 - What horror will invade the mind, When the strict Judge, who would be kind...