Select Beauties of Ancient English Poetry: With Remarks, المجلد 1T. Cadell, 1787 - 198 من الصفحات |
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addreffed armes Barons Wars beauties beſt caft Caſtle Coll Davenant death doth Drayton edit Edmund Bolton Edward elegant English eyes fafely faid fame farre fays feare feems feene feldom fent ferve fhall fhould fide fight fimilar firft firſt flaine fleepe fome fometimes foon forrow foul fouldiers Francis Quarles freſh ftill ftudied ftyle fubject fuch fufficiently fword Giles Fletcher Gondibert hand hath heart Heav'n hell herſelf Hilgay himſelf honour Houſe Jonfon King loft Lord Middle Temple Mifs mind moft moſt Mufes muft muſt night Norwich Nut-Brown Maid obferves occafion Oxon paffage paffed paſt poem poet poetical poetry Poly-Olbion prefent Prince Quarles Queen refpect reft reſt SAMUEL DANIEL ſhall ſhe ſpeak Spenfer ſpirit ſtand ſtate ſtill ſtood ſweet tafte teares thee thefe themſelves theſe thofe thoſe thou Trin unto verfes verſe warre whofe whoſe Withyam writers
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الصفحة 14 - For on his carcase raiment had he none, Save clouts and patches pieced one by one; With staff in hand, and scrip on shoulders cast, His chief defence against the winter's blast.
الصفحة xlix - might have recourfe to ; but this I know — the pomp of verfe, the " energy of defcription, and even the fineft moral paintings, would ftand *' him in no ftead. Without admiration (which cannot be effected but " by the marvellous of celeftial intervention, I mean the agency of fu...
الصفحة 33 - No feared treason breaks his quiet sleep ; Singing all day, his flocks he learns to keep, Himself as innocent as are his simple sheep. No Serian worms he knows, that with their thread Draw out their silken lives — nor silken pride: His lambs...
الصفحة 15 - By him lay heavy Sleep, the cousin of Death, Flat on the ground and still as any stone, A very corpse, save yielding forth a breath. Small keep took he whom Fortune frowned on Or whom she lifted up into the throne Of high renown; but as a living death, So, dead alive, of life he drew the breath.
الصفحة xl - However the fact might be, the internal evidence of his poems says no such thing.' Hume has properly remarked, that Waller's pieces ' aspire not to the sublime, still less to the pathetic.
الصفحة 9 - And then would snatch the ayre, afraid to fall ; And now he thought he sinking was to hell, And then would grasp the earth, and now his stall Him...
الصفحة 49 - How bright a dawn of angels with new light Amaz'd the midnight world, and made a day Of which the morning knew not...
الصفحة 17 - I ne mought refrain From tears to see how she her arms could tear, And with her teeth gnash on the bones in vain, When all for nought she fain would so sustain Her...
الصفحة 52 - drew from his deep breast. "Oh me! " (thus bellow'd he) "Oh me! what great Portents before mine eyes their powers advance ? And serves my purer sight only to beat Down my proud thought, and leave it in a trance ? Frown I ; and can great Nature keep her seat, And the gay stars lead on their golden dance ? Can His attempts above still...
الصفحة 52 - His attempts above still prosperous be, Auspicious still, in spite of Hell and Me ? " He has my Heaven, (what would he more ?) whose bright And radiant sceptre this bold hand should bear; And, for the never-fading fields of light, My fair inheritance, he confines me here To this dark house of shades, horror and night, To draw a long-liv'd death, where all my cheer Is the solemnity my sorrow wears, That mankind's torment waits upon my tears.