Sylvae, Or, The Second Part of Poetical Miscellanies |
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Æneids beſt Bleſſing bleſt Breast Catullus Charms Chlo cloſe cou'd Courſe Cymon Daph Dart Death defire Deſign Deſpair diſdain DRYDEN e're Earl eaſe Engliſh ev'n ev'ry Eyes faid fair falſe fame Fate fear felf fight firſt flain fome Fool foon Friend fuch fure GEORGE ETHERIDGE Gods Grace haſte Heart Heav'n Horace Horſe Idyllium of Theocritus inſpire joys juſt kiſs kiſſing laſt leſs loft loſe lov'd Love Lucretius Maid Mezentius Mind moſt Muſe muſt Numbers Nymphs o're Pain Paſſion paſt Piercy pleas'd pleaſing Pleaſure Poet Pow'r praiſe purſue Rage raiſe reſt Rural Lay Satyr ſay ſcarce ſee ſeen ſelf Senſe ſhall ſhe ſhine ſhort ſhou'd ſhow ſhun ſome Song Soul ſpoke ſpread ſtand ſtay ſtill ſtood ſtrain ſtrive ſuch ſweet Tarchon thee Theocritus theſe thoſe thou Thoughts thro Translated uſe Verſe Virgil whoſe wou'd wound wretched Youth
Popular passages
Page 181 - The country rings around with loud alarms, And raw in fields the rude militia swarms; Mouths without hands; maintained at vast expense, In peace a charge, in war a weak defence; Stout once a month they march, a blustering band, And ever, but in times of need, at hand...
Page 240 - To drive the deer with hound and horn Earl Percy took his way ; The child may rue that is unborn The hunting of that day.
Page 168 - The deep recesses of the grove he gain'd ; Where, in a plain defended by the wood, Crept through the matted grass a...
Page 87 - Or mead for cooling drink prepares Of virgin honey in the jars. Or in the now declining year, When bounteous Autumn rears his head, He joys to pull the ripen'd pear, And clustring grapes with purple spread. The fairest of his fruit he serves, Priapus thy rewards: Sylvanus too his part deserves, Whose care the fences guards.
Page 34 - Must be, when those misfortunes shall arrive; And since the man who is not feels not woe (For death exempts him, and wards off the blow, Which we, the living, only feel and bear) What is there left for us in death to fear? When once that pause of life has come between, 'Tis just the same as we had never been. And therefore if a man bemoan his lot, That after death his mouldering limbs shall rot, Or flames, or jaws of beasts devour his mass, Know, he's an unsincere, unthinking ass.
Page 85 - Happy the man - and happy he alone He who can call today his own, He who, secure within, can say 'Tomorrow, do thy worst, for I have lived today: Be fair or foul or rain or shine, The joys I have possessed in spite of Fate are mine: Not Heaven itself upon the Past has power, But what has been has been, and I have had my hour.
Page 168 - And on the Margin of the Fount was laid (Attended by her Slaves) a sleeping Maid. Like Dian, and her Nymphs, when tir'd with...
Page 182 - Depriv'd of day, and held in fetters faft : His life was only fpar'd at their requeft, Whom taken he fo nobly had releas'd : But ! But Iphigenia was the ladies care, Each in their turn addrefs'd to treat the fair ; While Pafimond and his the nuptial feaft prepare.
Page 169 - Fix'd on her face, nor could remove his sight, New as he was to love, and novice in delight; Long mute he stood, and leaning on his staff, His wonder...
Page 165 - Though now arraign'd, he read with some delight; Because he seems to chew the cud again, When his broad comment makes the text too plain; And teaches more in one explaining page, Than all the double meanings of the stage.