The Works of the English Poets: DrydenH. Hughs, 1779 - English poetry |
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Page 27
... Nature fhews no profpect of return . Nor cows for cows confume with fruitless fire ; Nor mares , when hot , their fellow - mares defire : The father of the fold fupplies his ewes ; The tag through fecret woods his hind pursues ; And ...
... Nature fhews no profpect of return . Nor cows for cows confume with fruitless fire ; Nor mares , when hot , their fellow - mares defire : The father of the fold fupplies his ewes ; The tag through fecret woods his hind pursues ; And ...
Page 28
... can enjoy the fair ; " Tis paft the power of heaven to grant my prayer . Heaven has been kind , as far as heaven can be Our parents with our own defires agree ; ; But But Nature , ftronger than the Gods above , Refufes 28 TRANSLATIONS.
... can enjoy the fair ; " Tis paft the power of heaven to grant my prayer . Heaven has been kind , as far as heaven can be Our parents with our own defires agree ; ; But But Nature , ftronger than the Gods above , Refufes 28 TRANSLATIONS.
Page 29
Samuel Johnson. But Nature , ftronger than the Gods above , Refufes her affiftance to my love ; She fets the bar that caufes all my pain : One gift refus'd makes all their bounty vain . And now the happy day is juft at hand , To bind our ...
Samuel Johnson. But Nature , ftronger than the Gods above , Refufes her affiftance to my love ; She fets the bar that caufes all my pain : One gift refus'd makes all their bounty vain . And now the happy day is juft at hand , To bind our ...
Page 32
... nature could not with his art compare , Were fhe to work ; but , in her own defence , Muft take her pattern here , and copy hence . Pleas'd Pleas'd with his idol , he commends , admires , 32 TRANSLATIONS PYGMALION and the STATUE. ...
... nature could not with his art compare , Were fhe to work ; but , in her own defence , Muft take her pattern here , and copy hence . Pleas'd Pleas'd with his idol , he commends , admires , 32 TRANSLATIONS PYGMALION and the STATUE. ...
Page 37
... nature could behold fo dire a crime , I gratulate at least my native clime , That fuch a land , which fuch a monster bore , So far is distant from our Thracian fhore . D 3 Let Let Araby extol her happy coaft , Her cinnamon and FROM OVID ...
... nature could behold fo dire a crime , I gratulate at least my native clime , That fuch a land , which fuch a monster bore , So far is distant from our Thracian fhore . D 3 Let Let Araby extol her happy coaft , Her cinnamon and FROM OVID ...
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Common terms and phrases
Achilles Æneid againſt Ajax arms Baucis and Philemon bear becauſe beſt betwixt blood breaſt caft Calchas caufe cauſe Ceyx Cinyras command crime cry'd death defire Eurytus Ev'n eyes facred fafe faid fair fame fate fear feas fecret fecure feems fenfe fent fhall fhip fhore fhould fide fight fill'd fince fire firft firſt flain flame fome foon foul ftill ftreams fubject fuch fuit fword Goddeſs Gods Grecian hand heart heaven Hector himſelf huſband Iphis Jove king laft laſt leaſt lefs loft lov'd Lucretius maid moſt muſt Myrrha myſelf nymph o'er Ovid paffion Pindar Pirithous pleaſe pleaſure Poet praiſe prayer prefent Priam prieſt purſue rage rais'd reafon reft reſt rife ſaid ſhall ſhe ſpoke ſpread ſtand ſtay ſtill ſtood ſuch tears thee thefe Theocritus theſe thofe thoſe thou thought tranflation Trojan Troy Virgil Whofe whoſe wife winds words wound
Popular passages
Page 18 - High o'er the hearth a chine of bacon hung; Good old Philemon seized it with a prong, And from the sooty rafter drew it down, Then cut a slice, but scarce enough for one; Yet a large portion of a little Store, Which for their sakes alone he wish'd were more.
Page 307 - Tis pleasant, safely to behold from shore The rolling ship, and hear the tempest roar; Not that another's pain is our delight, But pains unfelt produce the pleasing sight. Tis pleasant also to behold from far The moving legions mingled in the war; But much more sweet thy labouring steps to guide To virtue's heights, with wisdom well supplied, And all the magazines of learning fortified...
Page 62 - The shape of him who suffered in the storm, And send it flitting to the Trachin court, The wreck of wretched Ceyx to report : Before his queen bid the pale spectre stand, Who begs a vain relief at Juno's hand.
Page 22 - Speak thy desire, thou only just of men ; And thou, O woman, only worthy found To be with such a man in marriage bound.
Page 320 - What is't to me, Who never sail in her unfaithful sea, If storms arise, and clouds grow black ; , If the mast split, and threaten wreck ? Then let the greedy merchant fear For his ill-gotten gain ; And pray to gods that will not hear, While the debating winds and billows bear His wealth into the main.
Page 141 - I, who these mysterious truths declare, Was once Euphorbus in the Trojan war; My name, and lineage I remember well, And how in fight by Sparta's king I fell. In Argive Juno's fane I late beheld My buckler hung on high, and own'd my former shield. Then, death, so call'd, is but old matter dress'd In some new figure, and a vary'd vest: Thus all things are but alter'd, nothing dies; And here, and there th* unbody'd spirit flies.
Page 154 - When grown to manhood he begins his reign, And with stiff pinions can his flight sustain, He lightens of its load the tree that bore His father's royal sepulchre before, And his own cradle: This (with pious care) Plac'd on his back, he cuts the buxom air, Seeks the Sun's city, and his sacred church.
Page 269 - What English readers, unacquainted with Greek or Latin, will believe me, or any other man, when we commend those authors, and confess we derive all that is pardonable in us from their fountains, if they take those to be the same poets whom our Oglebys have translated...
Page 84 - The hero snatch'd it up, and toss'd in air Full at the front of the foul ravisher : He falls, and falling vomits forth a flood Of wine, and foam, and brains, and mingled blood. Half roaring, and half neighing through the hall, Arms, arms ! the double-form'd with fury call, To wreak their brother's death.
Page 13 - Just then the hero cast a doleful cry, And in those absent flames began to fry . The blind contagion rag'd within his veins But he with manly patience bore his pains ; He fear'd not fate, but only griev'd to die Without an honest wound, and by a death so dry. Happy Ancseus, thrice aloud he cried, With what becoming fate in arms he died...