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The Works of the English Poets. with Prefaces, Biographical and Critical, by ...
English Poets,Samuel Johnson
Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2015
appear arms bear beauty beſt blood born breaſt bring charms command court dear death delight dull e'er eaſe eyes face fair fall fame fate faults fear fire firſt fools give gods grace grave grow hand happy head hear heart heaven himſelf honour hope juſt keep kind king laſt laws leave lies light live Lord meet mighty mind moſt Muſe muſt nature ne'er never night o'er once pains peace play pleaſe pleaſure poets poor praiſe pride rage riſe round royal rule ſcorn ſee ſenſe ſhall ſhe ſhould ſome ſpeak ſtill ſuch tears tell thee theſe things thoſe thou thought town true turn Twas verſe whoſe wiſe wiſh wonders wretched write youth
Seite 125 - Prostrate my contrite heart I rend, My God, my Father, and my Friend, Do not forsake me in my end.
Seite 179 - Twas far from any path, but where the Earth Was bare, and naked all as at her birth, When by the Word it first was made, Ere God had said, Let grass, and herds, and every green thing grow, With fruitful trees after their kind, and it was so.
Seite 84 - By chaste instruction of her tender years. The first impression in her infant breast Will be the deepest, and should be the best Let not austerity breed servile fear, No wanton sound offend her virgin ear.
Seite 180 - My parents not obfcure, nor high in titles were, They left me heir to no difgrace. My father was (a thing now rare) Loyal and brave, my mother chafte and fair : The pledge of marriage-vows was only I ; Alone I liv'd their much-lov'd fondled boy...
Seite 176 - THE ENCHANTMENT I DID but look and love awhile, 'Twas but for one half-hour; Then to resist I had no will, And now I have no power. To sigh and wish is all my ease; Sighs which do heat impart Enough to melt the coldest ice, Yet cannot warm your heart. O would your pity give my heart One corner of your breast, 'Twould learn of yours the winning art, And quickly steal the rest.
Seite 200 - With fpoils of viftory and glory fraught. To him then every heart was open, down From the great man to the clown: In him rejoic'd, to him inclin'd ; And as his health round the glad board did pafs, Each honeft fellow cry'd, Fill full my glafs ; And fhew'd the fullnefs of his mind.
Seite 20 - Like transitory dreams given o'er, Whose images are kept in store By memory alone. The time that is to come is not; How can it then be mine? The present moment's all my lot; And that, as fast as it is got, Phillis, is only thine.
Seite 122 - What horror will invade the mind, When the strict Judge, who would be kind...