Bell's Classical Arrangement of Fugitive Poetry, Том 8;Объемы 15-17John Bell, 1797 |
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Стр. 94
... , Her Chiefs round gallant Howe are slain , And fallow Bunker's hill . Some tuneful bard who pants for fame , Shall consecrate one deathless name , And future ages tell , — 1 For Spartan valour here renown'd Where laurels shade the.
... , Her Chiefs round gallant Howe are slain , And fallow Bunker's hill . Some tuneful bard who pants for fame , Shall consecrate one deathless name , And future ages tell , — 1 For Spartan valour here renown'd Where laurels shade the.
Стр. 140
... tuneful notes inspire ; And now she mourns o'er HANB'RY's dust , May these revering fingers trust To touch his broken lyre . Then strike the chord , for Sawbridge speaks , And , reason's foe , crude motion makes From mental indigestion ...
... tuneful notes inspire ; And now she mourns o'er HANB'RY's dust , May these revering fingers trust To touch his broken lyre . Then strike the chord , for Sawbridge speaks , And , reason's foe , crude motion makes From mental indigestion ...
Стр. 1
... tuneful throng , Praise still is due to Cowley's lyre , And Gray's sweet melancholy song . Prior shall live with laughing eye Amongst the vivid sons of Fame ; Maids ever weep , and widows sigh , And burn with Eloisa's flame . Vol . XVI ...
... tuneful throng , Praise still is due to Cowley's lyre , And Gray's sweet melancholy song . Prior shall live with laughing eye Amongst the vivid sons of Fame ; Maids ever weep , and widows sigh , And burn with Eloisa's flame . Vol . XVI ...
Стр. 92
... tuneful Bards ! could I but chime so clever , My Quart , my honest Quart , should live for ever . How weak is all a mortal's pow'r , T'avert the death - devoted hour ! Nor can a shape , or beauty save , From the sure conquest of the ...
... tuneful Bards ! could I but chime so clever , My Quart , my honest Quart , should live for ever . How weak is all a mortal's pow'r , T'avert the death - devoted hour ! Nor can a shape , or beauty save , From the sure conquest of the ...
Стр. 106
... tuneful slave , and dissipate his care ! But why for thee this fond complaint ? Above thy master thou art blest : Art thou not free ? -Yes : calm Content , With olive sceptre sways thy breast : Then deign with me to live ; The falcon ...
... tuneful slave , and dissipate his care ! But why for thee this fond complaint ? Above thy master thou art blest : Art thou not free ? -Yes : calm Content , With olive sceptre sways thy breast : Then deign with me to live ; The falcon ...
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arms bard Behold blaze bless blest boast bold breast breath bright Britain's Britannia brow CECILIA's CHARLES HANBURY WILLIAMS charms crown'd divine dread dwell Earl Ev'n ev'ry eyes fair fame fate fear fire flame fled foes frantic band Freedom's genius Germain ghost can't glorious glory Goddess grace hail hand happy Harmony head heart Heaven hero Hessians honor Jack Ketch king lays Lord LORD GEORGE GERMAIN LORD JOHN TOWNSHEND LORD NORTH Lord Sandwich lyre maid mighty mournful Muse Music Nature's ne'er numbers nymph o'er Omiah Ouran patriot peace plain pow'r praise pride rage rise round sacred Sappho scorn shade Shebbeare shine shore sing skies smile soft song sons soul sound strain strings sweet sword tears thee thine thou thro throne thunder Tibicines tuneful Twitcher virtue voice ween Whilst wings youth
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Стр. 25 - By Music, minds an equal temper know, Nor swell too high, nor sink too low. If in the breast tumultuous joys arise, Music her soft, assuasive voice applies ; Or, when the soul is press'd with cares, Exalts her in enlivening airs.
Стр. 72 - Pope's heaven-strung lyre, nor Waller's ease, Nor Milton's mighty self, must please : Instead of these a formal band, In furs and coifs, around me stand; With sounds uncouth and accents dry, That grate the soul of harmony, Each pedant sage unlocks his store Of mystic, dark, discordant lore ; And points with tottering hand the ways That lead me to the thorny maze.
Стр. 45 - O'er thrones and globes elate Sits empress, crowning good, repressing ill. Smit by her sacred frown, The fiend, Dissension, like a vapor sinks ; And e'en the all-dazzling crown Hides his faint rays, and at her bidding shrinks; Such was this heaven-loved isle, Than Lesbos fairer and the Cretan shore ! No more shall freedom smile ? Shall Britons languish, and be men no more ? Since all must life resign, Those sweet rewards which decorate the brave 'Tis folly to decline, And steal inglorious to the...
Стр. 73 - Then welcome business, welcome strife, Welcome the cares, the thorns of life ; The visage wan, the purblind sight, The toil by day, the lamp at night, The tedious forms, the solemn prate, The pert dispute, the dull debate, The drowsy bench, the babbling Hall, For thee, fair Justice, welcome all...
Стр. 70 - LAWYER'S FAREWELL TO HIS MUSE. As, by some tyrant's stern command, A wretch forsakes his native land, In foreign climes condemned to roam An endless exile from his home ; Pensive he treads the destined way, And dreads to go, nor dares to stay; Till on some...
Стр. 44 - What constitutes a State? Not high-raised battlement or labored mound, Thick wall or moated gate; Not cities proud, with spires and turrets crowned; Not bays and broad-armed ports, Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride; Not starred and spangled courts, Where low-browed baseness wafts perfume to pride. No: MEN, high-minded MEN...
Стр. 26 - Thracian rais'd his strain, While Argo saw her kindred trees Descend from Pelion to the main : Transported demigods stood round, And men grew heroes at the sound...
Стр. 27 - He sung, and hell consented To hear the poet's prayer: Stern Proserpine relented, And gave him back the fair. Thus song could prevail O'er death and o'er hell, A conquest how hard and how glorious ! Though fate had fast bound her, With Styx nine times round her, Yet music and love were victorious.
Стр. 71 - I, thus doom'd from thee to part, Gay queen of fancy and of art, Reluctant move, with doubtful mind, Oft stop, and often look behind. Companion of my tender age...
Стр. 26 - Sisyphus, stands still, Ixion rests upon his wheel, And the pale spectres dance ! The furies sink upon their iron beds, And snakes uncurl'd hang list'ning round their he ids.