The beauties of English poetry, selected from the most esteemed authors, by dr. Wolcot (Google eBook)

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John Wolcot
1804
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Page 57 - And join with thee calm Peace and Quiet, Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet, And hears the Muses in a ring Aye round about Jove's altar sing...
Page 60 - Pelops' line, Or the tale of Troy divine, Or what (though rare) of later age Ennobled hath the buskined stage. But, O sad virgin, that thy power Might raise Musaeus from his bower! Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing Such notes as, warbled to the string, Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, And made Hell grant what Love did seek!
Page 50 - To hear the lark begin his flight, And, singing, startle the dull night, From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn doth rise; Then to come, in spite of sorrow, And at my window bid good-morrow, Through the sweetbriar or the vine, Or the twisted eglantine...
Page 48 - Hence loathed Melancholy Of Cerberus and blackest midnight born, In Stygian Cave forlorn 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy, Find out some uncouth cell, Where brooding darkness spreads his jealous wings, And the night-raven sings; There, under ebon shades, and low-brow'd rocks, As ragged as thy locks, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.
Page 60 - That own'd the virtuous ring and glass ; And of the wondrous horse of brass, On which the Tartar king did ride : And if aught else great bards beside In sage and solemn tunes have sung, Of turneys, and of trophies hung, Of forests, and enchantments drear, Where more is meant than meets the ear.
Page 59 - The immortal mind that hath forsook Her mansion in this fleshly nook ; And of those daemons that are found In fire, air, flood, or under ground, Whose power hath a true consent With planet, or with element. Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy In sceptred pall come sweeping by, Presenting Thebes, or Pelops...
Page 53 - When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn That ten day-labourers could not end; Then lies him down, the lubber fiend, And, stretched out all the chimney's length, Basks at the fire his hairy strength; And crop-full out of doors he flings, Ere the first cock his matin rings.
Page 54 - Fancy's child, Warble his native wood-notes wild. And ever, against eating cares, Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse...
Page 48 - Euphrosyne, And by men, heart-easing Mirth, Whom lovely Venus at a birth With two sister Graces more To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore...
Page 56 - But hail! thou Goddess sage and holy! Hail, divinest Melancholy! Whose saintly visage is too bright To hit the sense of human sight, And therefore to our weaker view O'erlaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue; Black, but such as in esteem Prince Memnon's...

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