The Works of the English Poets, from Chaucer to Cowper, Volume 12 (Google eBook)

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J. Johnson, 1810 - English poetry
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Page 244 - Peace to all such! but were there one whose fires True genius kindles, and fair fame inspires ; Blest with each talent and each art to please, And born to write, converse, and live with ease: Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne, View him with scornful, yet with jealous eyes...
Page 157 - HAPPY the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire; Whose trees in summer yield him shade, In winter, fire.
Page 222 - Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, As, to be hated, needs but to be seen ; Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace.
Page 169 - The berries crackle, and the mill turns round; On shining altars of japan they raise The silver lamp ; the fiery spirits blaze : From silver spouts the grateful liquors glide, While China's earth receives the smoking tide: At once they gratify their scent and taste, And frequent cups prolong the rich repast.
Page 447 - Tamed by the cruel season, crowd around The winnowing store, and claim the little boon Which Providence assigns them. One alone, The redbreast, sacred to the household gods, Wisely regardful of th...
Page 161 - Flies o'er th' unbending corn, and skims along the main. Hear how Timotheus' varied lays surprise, And bid alternate passions fall and rise! While, at each change, the son of Libyan Jove Now burns with glory, and then melts with love; Now his fierce eyes with sparkling fury glow, Now sighs steal out, and tears begin to flow: Persians and Greeks like turns of nature found. And the world's victor stood subdued by sound!
Page 244 - And born to write, converse, and live with ease ; Should such a man too fond to rule alone, Bear like the Turk, no brother near the throne; View him with scornful, yet with jealous eyes, And hate for arts that caused himself to rise; Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer. And without sneering teach the rest to sneer; Willing to wound and yet afraid to strike, Just hint a fault and hesitate dislike...
Page 168 - In heaps on heaps ; one fate o'erwhelms them all. The Knave of Diamonds tries his wily arts, And wins (oh shameful chance !) the Queen of Hearts. At this, the blood the virgin's cheek forsook, A livid paleness spreads o'er all her look ; She sees, and trembles at th' approaching ill, Just in the jaws of ruin, and codille.
Page 160 - Of all the causes which conspire to blind Man's erring judgment, and misguide the mind, What the weak head with strongest bias rules, Is Pride, the never-failing vice of. fools. Whatever nature has in worth denied, , She gives in large recruits of needful pride ; For as in bodies, thus in souls, we find What wants in blood and spirits, swell'd with wind : Pride, where wit fails, steps in to our defence, And fills up all the mighty void of sense.
Page 171 - Cares produce, Or who would learn one earthly Thing of Use ? To patch, nay ogle, might become a Saint, Nor could it sure be such a Sin to paint. But since, alas ! frail Beauty must decay...

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