The Works of the English Poets: Congreve and FentonH. Hughs, 1779 |
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Amyntas arms beauteous beauty blefs breaſt bright caufe charms cry'd Dæmon dear defire deſpair earth eaſe Epode Ev'n eyes face facred fafe faid fair fame fate fear feas feek feems feen fhade fhall fhining fhould fighs fight fing fire firft firſt fix'd flain flowers flowing tears foft fome fong foon forrow foul fpring freſh ftill ftrains ftreams fuch fudden fung fure fwain fweet goddeſs gods grace grief grove heart heaven himſelf honour huſband Jove laft laſt lefs light lov'd lyre maid moft moſt mourn Mufe muft Muſe muſt ne'er numbers nymph o'er Otreus paffion Phaon Phoebus Pindar plain pleafing pleaſe praiſe Priam Procris purſue rage raiſe reft rife Sappho ſhade ſhall ſhe ſhow ſkies ſpread ſtand ſtate ſtill ſweet taſte tender thee thefe theſe thofe thoſe thou verfe weeping Whilft whofe whoſe youth
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63. oldal - Notes afcend the Skies; Perpetual Breath the fwelling Notes fupplies, And lafting as her Name, Who form'd the tuneful Frame, Th
52. oldal - Adieu \ Since Women prove ungrateful, As oft as Men prove true. The Pains they caufe are many, And long and hard to bear, The Joys they give (if any) Few,fhort, and unjincere.
234. oldal - 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...
29. oldal - Let all be hushed, each softest motion cease, Be ev'ry loud tumultuous thought at peace ; And ev'ry ruder gasp of breath Be calm as in the arms of death : And thou, most fickle, most uneasy part, Thou restless wanderer, my heart, Be still ; gently, ah ! gently leave, Thou busy, idle thing, to heave : Stir not a pulse; and let my blood, That turbulent, unruly flood, Be softly staid : Let me be all, but my attention, dead.
62. oldal - Viftory and Peace reftore Her faithful Lover to her tender Breaft, Within her folding Arms to reft, Thence never to be parted more > No never to be parted more.
82. oldal - Whofe wit is beft, we'll not prefume to tell ; But this we know, our audience will excel: For never was in Rome, nor Athens, feen So fair a circle, and fo bright a Queen. .». Long has the Mufes...
105. oldal - As one she ne'er had known. So well she can the truth disguise, Such artful wonder frame, The lover or distrusts his eyes, Or thinks 'twas all a dream. Some...
88. oldal - J-adies and all, i'faith, now get astride. Contriving characters, and scenes, and plots, Is grown as common now, as knitting knots : With the same ease, and negligence of thought, The charming play is writ, and fringe is wrought.
36. oldal - Gods, Achilles ; and on me With Pity look, think you your Father fee; Such as I am, he is; alone in this, I can no Equal have in...
22. oldal - Of bafer Brafs, the next denotes the Times, An impious Page deform'd with deadly Crimes. The Fourth yet wears a worfe and browner Face, And adds to Gloomy Days an Iron Race. He turns the Book, and ev'ry Age reviews, Then all the Kingly Line his Eye purfues: The Firft of Men, and Lords of Earth defign'd, Who under him fhould rule the reft of Human-kind.