The works of Virgil, Volume 1 (Google eBook)

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Printed by James Swan ... for Vernor and Hood ... [and 5 others], 1803
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Page 162 - Ruffles at speed, and dances in the wind. His horny hoofs are jetty black and round; His chine is double; starting, with a bound He turns the turf, and shakes the solid ground. Fire from his eyes, clouds from his nostrils flow: He bears his rider headlong on the foe.
Page 220 - So, close in poplar shades, her children gone, The mother nightingale laments alone, Whose nest some prying churl had found, and thence, By stealth, convey'd th' unfeather'd innocence ; But she supplies the night with mournful strains.
Page 152 - Happy the man, who, studying nature's laws, Through known effects can trace the secret cause — His mind possessing in a quiet state, Fearless of Fortune, and resigned to Fate!
Page 152 - My next desire is, void of care and strife, To lead a soft, secure, inglorious life — A country cottage near a crystal flood, A winding valley, and a lofty wood. Some god conduct me to the sacred shades, Where Bacchanals are sung by Spartan maids, Or lift me high to Haemus...
Page 100 - E'en in this early dawning of the year, Produce the plough, and yoke the sturdy steer, And goad him till he groans beneath his toil, Till the bright share is buried in the soil.
Page 59 - Here could I live, and love, and die with only you. Now I to fighting fields am...
Page 151 - And rural pleasures crown his happiness. Unvex'd with quarrels, undisturb'd with noise, The country king his peaceful realm enjoys — Cool grots, and living lakes, the flow'ry pride Of meads, and streams that through the valley glide, And shady groves that easy sleep invite, And, after toilsome days, a sweet repose at night.
Page 219 - Th' unwary lover cast his eyes behind, Forgetful of the law, nor master of his mind. Straight all his hopes exhal'd in empty smoke, 710 And his long toils were forfeit for a look.
Page 108 - Fate's decree, degen'rate still to worse. So the boat's brawny crew the current stem, And, slow advancing, struggle with the stream: But, if they slack their hands, or cease to strive, Then down the flood with headlong haste they drive.
Page 114 - And rocks the bellowing voice of boiling seas rebound. The father of the gods his glory shrouds, Involved in tempests, and a night of clouds; And, from the middle darkness flashing out, By fits he deals his fiery bolts about.

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