ما يقوله الناس - كتابة مراجعة
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Allen ancient appear arms beauty breaſt breath bright charms cloſe critics e'er earth Ev'n ev'ry eyes face fails fair fall fame fate fight fire firſt flame flow fools give glow Gods gold grace hair half hand head hear heart heav'n honour juſt laſt laws lays learning leave light live lock looks maid mind moſt move muſe muſt nature never night nymph o'er once painted plain play pleaſe pow'r praiſe pride rage reſt riſe roll round rules ſaid ſay ſee ſenſe ſhades ſhall ſhe ſhining ſhould ſkies ſome ſoul ſpread ſtill ſtreams ſuch ſwelling tears tell thee theſe things thoſe thou thought thro town trembling true turns various virgin warm whoſe wife wind woods write youth
الصفحة 98 - Was it for this you took such constant care The bodkin, comb, and essence to prepare? For this your locks in paper durance bound, For this with...
الصفحة 75 - What though no credit doubting wits may give? The fair and innocent shall still believe. Know then, unnumber'd spirits round thee fly, The light militia of the lower sky: These, though unseen, are ever on the wing, Hang o'er the Box, and hover round the Ring.
الصفحة 40 - Great wits sometimes may gloriously offend, And rise to faults true critics dare not mend; From vulgar bounds with brave disorder part, And snatch a grace beyond the reach of art, Which, without passing thro' the judgment, gains The heart, and all its end at once attains.
الصفحة 124 - Cold is that breast which warm'd the world before, And those love-darting eyes must roll no more. Thus, if Eternal Justice rules the ball, Thus...
الصفحة 27 - Hark! a glad voice the lonely desert cheers; Prepare the way! a God, a God appears: A God, a God! the vocal hills reply, The rocks proclaim th
الصفحة 158 - Love, free as air, at sight of human ties, Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies...
الصفحة 95 - And screen'd in shades from day's detested glare, She sighs for ever on her pensive bed, Pain at her side, and Megrim at her head.
الصفحة 136 - To muse, and spill her solitary Tea, Or o'er cold coffee trifle with the spoon, Count the slow clock, and dine exact at noon ; Divert her eyes with pictures in the fire, Hum half a tune, tell stories to the squire ; Up to her godly garret after sev'n, There starve and pray, for that's the way to heav'n.