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Стр. 181 - Excellent wretch ! Perdition catch my soul, But I do love thee ! and when I love thee not Chaos is come again.
Стр. 163 - To wake the soul by tender strokes of art, To raise the genius, and to mend the heart, To make mankind, in conscious virtue bold, Live o'er each scene, and be what they behold...
Стр. 300 - Here will I hold. If there's a power above us (And that there is, all Nature cries aloud Through all her works), he must delight in virtue ; And that which he delights in must be happy.
Стр. 198 - Me gentle Delia beckons from the plain, Then hid in shades, eludes her eager swain ; But feigns a laugh, to see me search around, And by that laugh the willing fair is found.
Стр. 277 - LOOK round the habitable world, how few ., Know their own good, or, knowing it, pursue. How void of reason are our hopes and fears! What in the conduct of our life appears So well...
Стр. 107 - And they said one to another, Did not our heart burn within us, while he talked with us by the way, and while he opened to us the Scriptures?
Стр. 398 - To Make an Episode. — Take any remaining adventure of your former collection, in which you could no way involve your hero; or any unfortunate accident that was too good to be thrown away; and it will be of use applied to any other person, who may be lost and evaporate in the course of the work, without the least damage to the composition.
Стр. 213 - Tis not a set of features, or complexion, The tincture of a skin, that I admire: Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover, Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense.
Стр. 164 - Our scene precariously subsists too long On French translation, and Italian song : Dare to have sense yourselves ; assert the stage, Be justly warm'd with your own native rage. Such plays alone should please a British ear, As Cato's self had not disdain'd to hear. ' Britons attend .-] Altered thus by the author, from " Britons arise," to humour, we are told, the timid delicacy of Mr.