Poétique anglaise

de l'Imprimerie de Valade; et se trouve chez T. Barrois fils, 1806

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Seite 200 - That, changed through all, and yet in all the same; Great in the earth as in the ethereal frame ; Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze, Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees, Lives through all life, extends through all extent, Spreads undivided, operates unspent...
Seite 38 - With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun, When first on this delightful land he spreads His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, Glistering with dew: fragrant the fertile earth After soft showers; and sweet the coming on Of grateful evening mild; then silent night, With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon, And these the gems of heaven, her starry train...
Seite 186 - If I am right, Thy grace impart Still in the right to stay: If I am wrong, oh teach my heart To find that better way.
Seite 78 - Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries, See the Furies arise ! See the snakes that they rear, How they hiss in their hair, And the sparkles that flash from their eyes!
Seite 330 - Ah little think the gay licentious proud, Whom pleasure, power, and affluence surround; They, who their thoughtless hours in giddy mirth, And wanton, often cruel, riot waste; Ah little think they, while they dance along, How many feel, this very moment, death And all the sad variety of pain.
Seite 376 - customed hill, Along the heath and near his favourite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he : The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Seite 4 - With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of...
Seite 80 - At last divine Cecilia came, Inventress of the vocal frame ; The sweet enthusiast from her sacred store Enlarged the former narrow bounds, And added length to solemn sounds, With Nature's mother-wit and arts unknown before. Let old Timotheus yield the prize, Or both divide the crown : He raised a mortal to the skies ; She drew an angel down.
Seite 184 - What conscience dictates to be done, Or warns me not to do, This, teach me more than hell to shun, That, more than Heaven pursue. What blessings Thy free bounty gives, Let me not cast away; For God is paid when man receives, T
Seite 72 - Flush'd with a purple grace He shows his honest face: Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes ! Bacchus, ever fair and young, Drinking joys did first ordain ; Bacchus...

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