Poetical WorksPrinted at the Stanhope Press by C. Whittingham, 1808 |
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Strana 15
... fresh laurels courted him to live ; He seem'd but to prevent some new success , As if above what triumphs earth could give . His latest victories still thickest came , As near the STANZAS ON THE DEATH OF 0. CROMWELL . 15.
... fresh laurels courted him to live ; He seem'd but to prevent some new success , As if above what triumphs earth could give . His latest victories still thickest came , As near the STANZAS ON THE DEATH OF 0. CROMWELL . 15.
Strana 21
... give . The Prince of peace would , like himself , confer A gift unhop'd without the price of war : Yet , as he knew his blessings worth , took care That we should know it by repeated pray'r ; Which storm'd the skies , and ravish'd ...
... give . The Prince of peace would , like himself , confer A gift unhop'd without the price of war : Yet , as he knew his blessings worth , took care That we should know it by repeated pray'r ; Which storm'd the skies , and ravish'd ...
Strana 25
... give A sight of all he could behold and live ; A voice before his entry did proclaim Long - suffering , Goodness , Mercy , in his name . Your pow'r to justice doth submit your cause , Your goodness only is above the laws ; Whose rigid ...
... give A sight of all he could behold and live ; A voice before his entry did proclaim Long - suffering , Goodness , Mercy , in his name . Your pow'r to justice doth submit your cause , Your goodness only is above the laws ; Whose rigid ...
Strana 29
... give us new . Now our sad ruins are remov'd from sight , The season , too , comes fraught with new delight : Time seems not now beneath his years to stoop , Nor do his wings with sickly feathers droop : Soft western winds waft o'er the ...
... give us new . Now our sad ruins are remov'd from sight , The season , too , comes fraught with new delight : Time seems not now beneath his years to stoop , Nor do his wings with sickly feathers droop : Soft western winds waft o'er the ...
Strana 35
... give you the encouragement of a martyr ; - you could never suffer in a nobler cause . For I have chosen the most heroic subject which any Poet could desire : I have taken upon me to Annus Mirabilis: the Year of Wonders, 1666.
... give you the encouragement of a martyr ; - you could never suffer in a nobler cause . For I have chosen the most heroic subject which any Poet could desire : I have taken upon me to Annus Mirabilis: the Year of Wonders, 1666.
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Absalom ABSALOM AND ACHITOPHEL Achitophel Arius arms arts Behold Belgian blessing blest blood bold breast call'd cause church conscience crimes crowd crown dare David's defence design'd divine DRYDEN e'en Eliab ephod eyes faction faith fame fate father fear fight fire flames fleet foes forc'd friends grace hast Heav'n Heaven's Hebron Hind honour hope Ishbosheth Israel Jebusites Jews JOHN DRYDEN kind King labour land laws Lord mercy mighty monarchs Muse ne'er never numbers o'er once Ovid Panther Papists peace Phaleg plain plot Poem pow'r praise pretend prey pride prince promis'd rage rais'd reason rebel reign religion rest rhymes rise royal ruin sacred sanhedrims satire Scripture sects sedition seem'd sense Shadwell Shimei shore soul sovereign stand sure sway thee thou thought throne Tis true toil truth twas Uzza verse vex'd virtue wind wise words youth
Oblíbené pasáže
Strana 27 - Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking, Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking. Blest madman, who could every hour employ With something new to wish or to enjoy...
Strana 111 - My thoughtless youth was wing'd with vain desires, My manhood, long misled by wandering fires, Follow'd false lights, and, when their glimpse was gone, My pride struck out new sparkles of her own. Such was I, such by nature still I am ; Be thine the glory, and be mine the shame. Good life be now my task : my doubts are done ; What more could fright my faith than Three in One...
Strana 110 - Tis true she bounded by and tripped so light, They had not time to take a steady sight ; For truth has such a face and such a mien As to be loved needs only to be seen.
Strana 16 - He sought the storms ; but for a calm unfit, Would steer too nigh the sands to boast his wit. Great wits are sure to madness near allied, And thin partitions do their bounds divide...
Strana 16 - Got, while his soul did huddled notions try, And born a shapeless lump, like anarchy ; In friendship false, implacable in hate, Resolv'd to ruin or to rule the State; To compass this the triple bond he broke; The pillars of the public safety shook, And fitted Israel for a foreign yoke; Then, seiz'd with fear, yet still affecting fame, Usurp'da Patriot's all-atoning name.
Strana 41 - ... fancy, or the variation, driving or moulding of that thought, as the judgment represents it proper to the subject; the third is Elocution, or the Art of clothing and adorning that thought so found and varied, in apt, significant and sounding words: the quickness of the Imagination is seen in the Invention, the fertility in the Fancy, and the accuracy in the Expression.
Strana 9 - Thro' the azure deep of air : Yet oft before his infant eyes would run Such forms as glitter in the Muse's ray, With orient hues, unborrow'd of the sun : Yet shall he mount, and keep his distant way Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate, Beneath the Good how far — but far above the Great. THE BARD. A Pindaric Ode. I. i. seize thee, ruthless King ! Confusion on thy banners wait ; Tho' fann'd by Conquest's crimson wing, They mock the air with idle state.
Strana 111 - But, gracious God, how well dost thou provide For erring judgments an unerring guide! Thy throne is darkness in the abyss of light, A blaze of glory that forbids the sight. O teach me to believe thee thus conceal'd, And search no farther than thyself reveal'd; But her alone for my director take, Whom thou hast promised never to forsake!
Strana 40 - Gull'd with a patriot's name, whose modern sense Is one that would by law supplant his prince; The people's brave, the politician's tool; Never was patriot yet, but was a fool.
Strana 40 - The composition of all poems is, or ought to be, of wit; and wit in the poet, or Wit writing (if you will give me leave to use a school-distinction), is no other than the faculty of imagination in the writer, which, like a nimble spaniel, beats over and ranges through the field of memory, till it springs the quarry it hunted after; or, without metaphor, which searches over all...