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Abra beneath bleffings blefs'd blifs bofom breaſt breath charms chearful crown'd defire delight deſpair diftant e'en eaſe erft ev'ry eyes facred faid fair fame fate fcenes fcorn fear fecret feen fhade fhall fhine fhore fhould fide fighs filent fing firft firſt fkies flain flame flow'rs fmiles foft folemn fome fong fons foon forrow foul fpring ftate ftill ftrain ftream fuch fweet Gaul grace grief grove guife heart Heav'n himſelf honour laft laſt loft lov'd lyre maid mind mourn Mufe muft muſt numbers Nut-brown Maid nymph o'er paffion pain plain pleas'd pleaſe pleaſure pow'r praiſe pride purſue rage raiſe reafon reft rife roſe ſcene ſhade ſhall ſhe ſkies ſky ſmile ſpeak ſpread ſtate ſtill ſweet tears thee thefe theſe thine thofe thoſe thou thought thouſand thro toil tow'ring virtue whofe Whoſe wretch youth
Strana 273 - His fall was destined to a barren strand, A petty fortress, and a dubious hand ; He left the name, at which the world grew pale, To point a moral, or adorn a tale.
Strana 160 - But ah ! what pen his piteous plight may trace ? Or what device his loud laments explain? The form uncouth of his disguised face ? The pallid hue that dyes his looks amain ? The plenteous shower that does his cheek distain...
Strana 414 - What recks it them? What need they? They are sped; And when they list, their lean and flashy songs Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw ; The hungry sheep look up and are not fed, But swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly and foul contagion spread; Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw Daily devours apace, and nothing said. But that two-handed engine at the door Stands ready to smite once and smite no more.
Strana 219 - Without a vain, without a grudging heart, To him who gives us all, I yield a part ; From him you come, for him accept it here, A frank and sober, more than costly cheer.
Strana 272 - On what foundation stands the warrior's pride, How just his hopes let Swedish Charles decide ; A frame of adamant, a soul of fire, No dangers fright him, and no labours tire ; O'er love, o'er fear, extends his wide domain, Unconquer'd lord of pleasure and of pain ; No joys to him pacific...
Strana 15 - 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.
Strana 415 - There entertain him all the saints above In solemn troops, and sweet societies, That sing, and singing, in their glory move, And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
Strana 448 - Dear is that shed to which his soul conforms, And dear that hill which lifts him to the storms; And as a child, when scaring sounds molest, Clings close and closer to the mother's breast, So the loud torrent, and the whirlwind's roar, But bind him to his native mountains more.