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ABEL ADAM affection already angels arms beauty behold bless blood body bosom brother CAIN cast charms clouds cottage cry'd curse DAPHNE darkness dear death delight despair DIVINE dreadful dust dwelling earth embrace eternal eyes face father fear feel feet Felix field flowers fruits give gods grace grief grove hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hill horror hour husband idea labour leave light lips look LORD MAHALA mind misery morning mother nature never night offering OLIVER pain pale peace praise present rest rise rock shade shepherd side sighs silence sinner sleep smile soft soon sorrow soul spring steps stream surrounded sweet tears tender thee thine THIRZA thou thought transport trees trembling turn virtue voice weep wife wretched young
Page x - ENGLISH, are wrote in a kind of loose poetry, unshackled by the tagging of rhymes, or counting of syllables. This method of writing seems perfectly suited to the GERMAN language, and is of a middle species between verse and prose : it has the beauties of the first, with the ease of the last. It is not, however, peculiar to MR.
Page 233 - They descended the hill together, and walked towards the old man's dwelling. He was rich in land and flocks, and a lovely daughter was his only heir. My child, he said to her, he that saved my life was the father of this young shepherd. If thou canst love him, I shall be happy to see you united.
Page 232 - On every side, the enemy, both horse and foot, confounded in a most dreadful tumult^ overthrew each other to escape our rage. Grown furious by the combat, we trod under foot the dead and dying, to extend vengeance and death still further.
Page 232 - ... unshaken as the rock by which we were protected. At last, reinforced by thirty Swiss warriors, we fell suddenly on the enemy, like the fall of a mountain, or as some mighty rock descends, rolls through the forest, and with a horrid crush lays waste the trees that interrupt its course. On every side the enemy, both horse and toot, confounded in a most dreadful tumult, overthrew each other to escape our rage.
Page 253 - must be the fate of those who do not join an inflexible labour to aa habitual meditation ? Let the artist who despises or neglects these important means, make no pretension to the recompense due to active and sensible minds. There is no reputation for him, to whom a taste for his art does not become his ruling passion ; to whom the hours he employs in its cultivation, are not the most delicious of his life; to whom the study of it does not constitute his real existence and his primary happiness;...
Page 232 - Take care, good father, of this warrior,' my deliverer cried ; ' he has fought like a son of liberty !' he said — and flew back to the combat. The victory was ours, my son, it was ours ! but many of us were left extended on the heaps of the enemy.
Page ix - The rapidity of the sale does honour to the taste of the swiss and the GERMANS, it having passed through three editions in one year. The subject is THE DEATH OF ABEL, which is the most remarkable event recorded in the sacred history from the FALL to the DELUGE. The poet has had the art to interest us in the distresses of our first parents, and their immediate descendants, by the lively and affecting manner in which he manages the passions, and by the graces and truth he throws into his b paintings,...
Page 230 - I come once a year to the top of this mountain ; but I perceive that I am now come for the last time. From hence I still behold the order of the battle, where liberty made us conquerors. See, it was on that side the army of the enemy advanced ; thousands of lances glittered at a distance with more than two hundred horsemen covered with sumptuous armour. The plumes that shaded their helmets nodded as they marched, and the earth resounded with their horses