Neue Bibliothek der schönen Wissenschaften und der freyen Künste, Volumes 53-54

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Dyck, 1794

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Page 359 - Had Shakspeare produced no other works than these, his name would have reached us with as little celebrity as time has conferred on that of Thomas Watson, an older and much more elegant sonnetteer.
Page 252 - In goodness and in power pre-eminent: Tell me how may I know him, how adore, From whom I have that thus I move and live, And feel that I am happier than I know...
Page 352 - To feek the forms of pain ; And ah! no voids to madnefs — fhe Peoples them all with dire variety : Demons circle round her head, Harpies tend her thorny bed, And lakes of fire expand, and feas of blood, And fury paffions jar...
Page 354 - ... in outrage borne ; The wond'rous net perplex'd and torn, Where mem'ry erft, by genius taught, Immortal vifions caught ; A viewlefs train, the furies fpread Their mantle o'er the poet's head ; Hell-painted texture, warping round A curtain clofe, a gloom profound ; With horrid ftrains all holy things they chace, And pour th' expanfive veil o'er nature's goodly face.
Page 353 - No foqthing hand, no pitying eye, The clanging whips refound, The horrid keeper's frown is there, The fhrieks of rage, and pain, and fear ; O piteous was that moan ! And now, a deeper groan Succeeds— the ftruggle of imprifon'd breath, The long drawn note of agonizing death. Paufe, oh ! paufe, thou din of fear ; Thro...
Page 359 - We have not reprinted the Sonnets, &c. of Shakspeare, because the strongest act of parliament that could be framed would fail to compel readers into their service...
Page 1 - Bnt foon as break of day begins to peep, And bufy bells roufe lazy nuns from fleep: He too awakes , to view with curious eyes, Frefh from her couch, the lovely veftal rife: To, fee her lave and drefs — in fhort , to fhare In all her little toilet's morning care.
Page 357 - THE MAID OF NORMANDY ; or, The Death of the Queen of France.
Page 12 - Contentment, rosy, dimpled maid, Thou brightest daughter of the sky, Why dost thou to the hut repair, And from the gilded palace fly?
Page 352 - Madnefs, I know thee by thy yell, Eldeft born of hell. Oft, at midnight hour, Madnefs, I've mus'd befide thy bow'r. The walls preclude the human fight, The roof alone receives the light ; From Hie living tomb, Thro...

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