The Poetical Works of Joseph Addison: With the Life of the Author..

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At the Apollo Press, by the Martins., 1778 - Počet stran: 228

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Strana xxvii - If pensive to the rural shades I rove, His shape o'ertakes me in the lonely grove: Twas there of Just and Good he...
Strana 69 - Whose boasted ancestry so high extends That in the Pagan Gods his lineage ends, Comes from afar, in gratitude to own The great supporter of his father's throne. What tides of glory to his bosom ran Clasped in th
Strana xxvi - Or dost thou warn poor mortals left behind, A task well suited to thy gentle mind? Oh ! if sometimes thy spotless form descend : To me, thy aid, thou guardian genius, lend ! When rage misguides me, or when fear alarms, When pain distresses, or when pleasure charms, In silent...
Strana 137 - Till, on the borders of the Po, at last The name inscrib'd on the new tomb appears : The dear, dear name she bathes in flowing tears, Hangs o'er the tomb, unable to depart, And hugs the marble to her throbbing heart. Her daughters too lament, and sigh, and mourn, (A fruitless tribute to their brother's urn,) And beat their naked bosoms, and complain, And call aloud for Phaeton in vain : All the long night their mournful watch they keep, And all the day stand round the tomb, and weep.
Strana 180 - As sulphur blazes at the taper's touch, She long'd her hidden passion to reveal, And tell her pains, but had not words to tell : She can't begin, but waits for the rebound, To catch his voice, and to return the sound.
Strana 81 - I look for streams immortaliz'd in song. That lost in silence and oblivion lie, (Dumb are their fountains and their channels dry), Yet run for ever by the muse's skill, And in the smooth description murmur still.
Strana xvi - The numerous and violent claps of the whig party on the one side of the theatre, were echoed back by the tories on the other; while the author sweated behind the scenes with concern to find their applause proceeding more from the hand than the head.
Strana 31 - Through pathless fields, and unfrequented floods, To dens of dragons and enchanted woods. But now the mystic tale, that pleased of yore, Can charm an understanding age no more; The long-spun allegories fulsome grow, While the dull moral lies too plain below.
Strana 167 - The pointed jav'lin warded off his rage : Mad with his pains, and furious to engage, The serpent champs the steel, and bites the spear, Till blood and venom all the point besmear.
Strana xxv - Proud names, who once the reins of empire held ; In arms who triumph'd ; or in arts excell'd ; Chiefs, grac'd with scars, and prodigal of blood ; Stern patriots, who for sacred freedom stood ; Just men, by whom impartial laws were given ; And saints, who taught and led the way to heaven...

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