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Abelard abounds Addison admirable Æneid Æschylus ancient appear Aristotle beautiful Boileau celebrated character circum circumstance composition Corneille critics Domenichino Dryden Eclogues elegant Elegy Eloisa epic poem epic poetry epistle equal Essay Euripides excellent expressed exquisite eyes fancy faut France French genius Georgics give grace Greek hath Homer honour Horace Iliad imagery images imagination imitation introduced Jane Shore justly king language lately latin learning letters lines lyric manner merit Milton mind nature never numbers o'er observations occasion Ovid painted Paradise Lost particularly passage passion pathetic perhaps Petrarch Philoctetes piece Pindar pleasure poesy poet poetical poetry Pope praise precepts prince propriety quæ Quintilian Racine reader remarks rhyme Sappho satire says scene SECT sentiments Sophocles speak species Spenser spirit stanza story strokes sublime taste tender thee Theocritus thou thought tion tragedy translated verses Virgil Voltaire words writing written
Page 187 - But see! each Muse, in Leo's golden days, Starts from her trance, and trims her wither'd bays! Rome's ancient Genius, o'er its ruins spread, Shakes off the dust, and rears his rev'rend head. Then Sculpture and her sister-arts revive; Stones leap'd to form, and rocks began to live; With sweeter notes each rising Temple rung; A Raphael painted, and a Vida sung.
Page 156 - Where a new world leaps out at his command, And ready nature waits upon his hand ; When the ripe colours soften and unite, And sweetly melt into just shade and light ; When mellowing years their full perfection give( And each bold figure just begins to live, The treacherous colours the fair art betray, And all the bright creation fades away...
Page 93 - And, when I die, be sure you let me know Great Homer died three thousand years ago. Why did I write? what sin to me unknown Dipp'd me in ink, my parents', or my own?
Page 164 - Durfey's Tales. With him most authors steal their works, or buy ; Garth did not write his own Dispensary. Name a new play, and he's the poet's friend ; Nay, show'd his faults — but when would poets mend? No place so sacred from such fops is barr'd, Nor is Paul's church more safe than Paul's churchyard: Nay, fly to altars ; there they'll talk you dead ; For fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
Page 143 - Tis not a lip, or eye, we beauty call, But the joint force and full result of all. Thus when we view some well-proportion'd dome, (The world's just wonder, and ev'n thine, O Rome!) No single parts unequally surprise, All comes united to th' admiring eyes; No monstrous height, or breadth or length appear; The whole at once is bold and regular.
Page 331 - May one kind grave unite each hapless name, And graft my love immortal on thy fame. Then, ages hence, when all my woes are o'er...
Page 311 - How oft, when press'd to marriage, have I said, Curse on all laws but those which love has made! Love, free as air, at sight of human ties, Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies...
Page 53 - Less than a God they thought there could not dwell Within the hollow of that shell, That spoke so sweetly and so well.
Page 138 - Some figures monstrous and mis-shap'd appear, Consider'd singly, or beheld too near, Which, but proportion'd to their light, or place, Due distance reconciles to form and grace. A prudent chief not always must display 175 His pow'rs, in equal ranks, and fair array, But with th' occasion and the place comply, Conceal his force, nay seem sometimes to fly.
Page 307 - Repentant sighs, and voluntary pains: Ye rugged rocks! which holy knees have worn; Ye grots and caverns shagg'd with horrid thorn! .-• Shrines! where their vigils pale-ey'd virgins keep, And pitying saints, whose statues learn to weep! Tho' cold like you, unmov'd and silent grown, I have not yet forgot myself to stone.