The poetical works of George, lord Lyttelton, with additions: to which is prefixed, an account of his life

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Seite 58 - Seek to be good, but aim not to be great: A woman's noblest station is retreat; Her fairest virtues fly from public sight, Domestic worth, that shuns too strong a light.
Seite 104 - Made to engage all hearts, and charm all eyes, Though meek, magnanimous, though witty, wise ; Polite, as all her life in courts had been, Yet good, as she the world had never seen ; The noble fire of an exalted mind, With gentlest female tenderness combin'd.
Seite viii - On Sunday, about eleven in the forenoon, hij lordship sent for me, and said he felt a great hurry, and wished to have a little conversation with me in order to divert it. He then proceeded to open the fountain of that heart, from whence goodness had so long flowed, as from a copious spring.
Seite x - Thus he continued giving his dying benediction to all around him. On Monday morning a lucid interval gave some small hopes, but these vanished in the evening; and he continued dying, but with very little uneasiness, till Tuesday morning, August 22, when between seven and eight o'clock he expired, almost without a groan.
Seite 102 - Nor dare the' all-wise Disposer to arraign, Or against His supreme decree With impious grief complain. That all thy full-blown joys at once should fade, Was His most righteous will, — and be that will obey'd. Would thy fond love His grace to her control, And in these low abodes of sin and pain Her pure exalted soul Unjustly for thy partial good detain...
Seite 63 - The clearest spring, or shadiest grove: Tell me, my heart, if this be love? When fond of power, of beauty vain, Her nets she spread for every swain, I strove to hate, but vainly strove: Tell me, my heart, if this be love?
Seite 65 - THE heavy hours are almost past That part my Love and me; My longing eyes may hope, at last, Their only wish to see! ' But how, my DELIA ! will you meet The man you've lost so long...
Seite 51 - Of thee more worthy were the task, to raise A lasting column to thy country's praise; To sing the land, which yet alone can boast That liberty corrupted Rome has lost ; Where. Science in the arms of Peace is laid, And plants her palm beside the olive's shade.
Seite 85 - W^HEN I think on your truth, I doubt you no more, I blame all the fears I gave way to before : I say to my heart, ' Be at rest, and believe That whom once she has chosen she never will...
Seite 63 - Tell me, my heart, if this be love? If she some other youth commend, Though I was once his fondest friend, His instant enemy I prove: Tell me, my heart, if this be love?

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