Bell's Classical Arrangement of Fugitive Poetry, Объемы 7-8

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J. Bell, 1789
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Стр. 129 - E'en have you seen, bath'd in the morning dew, The budding rose, its infant bloom display ; When first its virgin tints unfold to view, It shrinks, and scarcely trusts the blaze of day. " So soft, so delicate, so sweet she came, Youth's damask glow, just dawning on her cheek, I gaz'd, I sigh'd, I caught the tender flame, Felt the fond pang, and droop'd with passion weak.
Стр. 155 - scape from Fortune's rage, And bear the scars of envy, spite, and scorn, Yet with mankind no horrid war I wage, Yet with no impious spleen my breast is torn : For virtue lost, and ruin'd man, I mourn.
Стр. 30 - ... design. Ambrosial blossoms, such of old as blew By those fresh founts on Eden's happy plain, And Sharon's roses all his passage strew : So fancy dreams ; but fancy's dreams are vain. Wasted and weary on the mountain's side, His way unknown, the hapless pilgrim lies, Or takes some ruthless robber for his guide, And prone beneath his cruel sabre dies. Life's morning-landscape gilt with orient light, Where hope and joy and fancy hold their reign...
Стр. 81 - Enough has Heaven indulg'd of joy below, To tempt our tarriance in this lov'd retreat: Enough has Heaven ordain'd of useful woe, To make us languish for a happier seat.
Стр. 13 - Too long, alas, my inexperienc'd youth, Misled by flattering Fortune's specious tale, Has left the rural reign of peace and truth, The huddling brook, cool cave, and whispering vale. Won to the world, a candidate for praise, Yet, let me boast, by no ignoble art, Too oft the public ear has heard my lays, Too much its vain applause has...
Стр. 92 - The mournful fequel of my tale ; Sent by an order from the fates, A gunner met them in the vale. Alarm'd the lover cry'd, My dear, Hafte. hafte away, from danger fly ; Here, gunner, point thy thunder here ; O fpare my love, and let me die.
Стр. 161 - God's blessings spring out of my mother earth, and eat my own bread in peace and privacy : a place where I may without disturbance meditate my approaching mortality, and that great account which all flesh must...
Стр. 8 - PARNELL'S modest fame, and may be mine. Go then, my Friend, nor let thy candid breast Condemn me, if I check the plausive string ; Go to the wayward world ; complete the rest ; Be, what the purest Muse would wish to sing. Be still thyself ; that open path of truth, Which led thee here, let manhood firm pursue ; Retain the sweet simplicity of youth, And, all thy virtue dictates, dare to do.
Стр. 8 - If 1'orE through friendship fail'd, indignant view, Yet pity, DRYDEN ; hark, whene'er he sings, How Adulation drops her courtly dew On titled rhymers and inglorious kings. See, from the depths of his exhaustless mine, His glittering stores the tuneful spendthrift throws ; Where fear or interest bids, behold they shine ; Now grace a CROMWELL'S, now a CHARLES'

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