The Lady's Poetical Magazine: Or, Beauties of British Poetry, Volum 2

Harrison and Company, 1781

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Passatges populars

PÓgina 14 - thy bolts to throw ; And deal damnation round the land, On each I judge thy foe. * • If I am right, .thy grace impart. Still in the right to ftay : If I am wrong, O teach my heart To find that better way I Save me alike from
PÓgina 390 - Ay me ! I fondly dream Had ye been there; for what could that have donef What could the Mufe herfelf that Orpheus bore, The Mufe herfelf for her enchanting fon, Whom univerfal nature did lament, When by the rout that made the hideous roar, His goary vifage down the ftream was
PÓgina 393 - is not dead, Sunk though he be beneath the wat'ry floor ; So finks the day-ftar in the ocean bed, And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new fpangled ore Flames in the forehead of the morning fky: So Lycidas funk low, but mounted high, •• " Through the dear might of Him that walk'd the wares, Where other groves and other
PÓgina 389 - lov'd to hear our fong. But O the heavy change, now thou art gone ; Now thou art gone, and never muft return ! Thee, fhepherd, thee the woods, and defart caves With wild thyme and the gadding vine
PÓgina 14 - lead me wherefo'er I go, Thro' this day's life or death. This day, be bread and peace my lot: All elfe beneath the fun, . Thou know'ft if beft beftow'd or not, And let thy will be done. To Thee, whofe temple is all fpace, Whofe altar, earth, fea, fkies: One chorus let all being raife, All Nature's incenfe rife
PÓgina 259 - th' affliftive dart. Each gift of nature, and each grace of art; With fatal heat impetuous courage glows, With fatal fweetnefs elocution flows ; Impeachment flops the fpeaker's pow'rful breath, And reftlefs fire precipitates on death. But fcarce obferv'd, the knowing and the bold Fall in the gen'ral maflacre of gold ; Wide-wafting peft ! that rages unconfin'd, And
PÓgina 210 - eafe. The pair arrive ; the livery'd fervants wait; Their lord receives them at the pompous gate : The table groans with coftly piles of food, • And all is more than hofpitably good. Then, led to reft, the day's long toil they drown, Deep funk in fleep, and filk, and heaps of down. At length 'tis morn
PÓgina 210 - o'er the nightly dew) He quits his cell; the Pilgrim-ftaff he bore, And fix'd the fcallop in his hat before; Then with the fun a rifing journey went, Sedate to think, and watching each event. The morn was wafted in the pathlefs grafs, And long and lonefome was the wild to pafs ; But when the
PÓgina 30 - woe. And ever and anon he beat The doubling drum with furious heat: And tho' fometimes, each dreary paufe between, Dejefted Pity, at his fide, Her foul-fubduing voice applied ; Yet ftill he kept his wild unalter'd mien,
PÓgina 215 - Has, with the cup, the gracelefs cuftom loft, • And ftill he welcomes, but with lefs of coft. ' The mean, fufpicious wretch, whofe bolted door ' Ne'er mov'd in duty to the wandering poor; . ' With him I left the cup, to teach his mind • That Heaven can

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