Silver Poets of the Eighteenth CenturyArthur Pollard Dent, 1976 - 274 pagina's |
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Pagina 7
... feel it true ; And really , Yours is budding too- Nay , now I cannot stir my Foot : It feels as if ' twere taking Root . - Description would but tire my Muse : In short , they both were turn'd to Yews . Old Good - man Dobson of the ...
... feel it true ; And really , Yours is budding too- Nay , now I cannot stir my Foot : It feels as if ' twere taking Root . - Description would but tire my Muse : In short , they both were turn'd to Yews . Old Good - man Dobson of the ...
Pagina 129
... feels Its motions stopt , or phrenzy fire the wheels . Nor this the worst . As nature's ties decay , As duty , love ... feel The rabble's rage , and tyrant's angry steel ; Thou transitory flower , alike undone 370 375 380 385 By proud ...
... feels Its motions stopt , or phrenzy fire the wheels . Nor this the worst . As nature's ties decay , As duty , love ... feel The rabble's rage , and tyrant's angry steel ; Thou transitory flower , alike undone 370 375 380 385 By proud ...
Pagina 154
... feel this fatal day . Oh , let me fly a land that spurns the brave , Oswego's dreary shores shall be my grave ; I'll seek that less inhospitable coast , And lay my body where my limbs were lost . SONG BY A MAN . Basso . Spirituoso Old ...
... feel this fatal day . Oh , let me fly a land that spurns the brave , Oswego's dreary shores shall be my grave ; I'll seek that less inhospitable coast , And lay my body where my limbs were lost . SONG BY A MAN . Basso . Spirituoso Old ...
Inhoudsopgave
A Description of the Morning | 8 |
Horace Lib 2 Sat 6 | 28 |
A Satirical Elegy on the Death | 34 |
Copyright | |
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Antistrophe Bard Baucis and Philemon bless blest bliss breast Cadenus call'd charms chearful Circassia Collins cou'd Covent Garden Dean Death delight divine drest Dunciad ECLOGUE Edward III Eirin Esther Vanhomrigh Eton College Ev'n ev'ry eyes fair Fame Fancy Fate Fear fire fix'd Flow'rs Foes Folly Friend Goddess grace Gray Grief Grove Hand hear heart Heav'n honour hope hour Johnson Jonathan Swift King land Lord lov'd Love lyre Maid Mind Muse ne'er never Night Numbers Nymph o'er pain Passions Peace PINDARIC Pity plain pleasure poem Poet poetry Pow'r praise Pride Queen rage reign rise round satire Scene Shade shew sigh skies smiling Song sorrow soul Spring Stoke Poges STOOPS TO CONQUER Swain sweet Swift tear thee thine thou thought thro Toil Twas Vale Vanessa Verses Virtue voice wealth weep wild wou'd Youth ΙΟ