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admirers affection agreeable answer appear assure beauty believe body cause concern continued conversation correct critic desire equal esteem example expect express eyes fancy faults favour fear friendship give given glad hand happy hear heart honour hope imagine judgment kind Lady late learning least leave less LETTER lines live look Lord manner mean mention mind nature never obliged observe occasion once opinion particular pass pastoral person pleased pleasure poem Poet poetry Pope Pray present printed published reason received remarks rest seems sense shew sincerity sometimes sort speak sure syllables taken talk tell thing thought told town translation true truth verses Virgil whole wish write written Wycherley young
306. oldal - The Muse, disgusted at an age and clime Barren of every glorious theme. In distant lands now waits a better time Producing subjects worthy fame : In happy climes where from the genial sun And virgin earth such scenes ensue, The force of art by nature seems outdone, And fancied beauties by the true : In happy climes the seat of innocence, Where nature guides and virtue rules, Where men shall not impose for truth and sense The pedantry of courts and schools...
106. oldal - Happy the man. whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound. Content to breathe his native air. In his own ground Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire. Whose trees in summer yield him shade. In winter fire. Blest, who can unconcern'dly find Hours, days, and years slide soft away, In health of body, peace of mind. Quiet by day. Sound sleep by night; study and ease. Together mixt: sweet recreation, And innocence, which most does please With meditation.
259. oldal - Hark, they whisper ; angels say, " Sister spirit, come away ! " What is this absorbs me quite, Steals my senses, shuts my sight, Drowns my spirit, draws my breath ? Tell me, my soul ; can this be death...
259. oldal - ... the world recedes it disappears heaven opens on my eyes my ears with sounds seraphic ring lend lend your wings i mount i fly o grave where is thy victory o death where is thy sting.
306. oldal - There shall be sung another golden Age, The rise of Empire and of Arts, The Good and Great inspiring epic Rage, The wisest Heads and noblest Hearts. Not such as Europe breeds in her decay; Such as she bred when fresh and young, When heav'nly Flame did animate her Clay, By future Poets shall be sung.
83. oldal - That changed through all, and yet in all the same. Great in the earth, as in the ethereal frame, Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze, Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees ; Lives through all life, extends through all extent, Spreads undivided, operates unspent ; Breathes in our soul, informs our mortal part, As full, as perfect, in a hair as heart; As full, as perfect, in vile man that mourns As the rapt seraph that adores and burns : To 'him no high, no low, no great, no small...
105. oldal - HAPPY the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire, Whose trees in summer yield him shade, In winter fire.
250. oldal - I would flatter myself into a good opinion of my own way of living : Plutarch just now told me, that it is in human life as in a game at tables...
77. oldal - It is not enough that nothing offends the Ear, but a good Poet will adapt the very Sounds, as well as Words, to the things he treats of. So that there is (if one may express it so) a Style of Sound. As in describing a gliding Stream, the Numbers shou'd run easy and flowing; in describing a rough Torrent or Deluge, sonorous and swelling, and so of the rest.