The Works of the English Poets, from Chaucer to Cowper: Including the Series Edited with Prefaces, Biographical and Critical, Volume 14

Alexander Chalmers

J. Johnson, 1810 - English poetry

Contents

• Page: 9
• IYPiF Authors Life by Dr Johnson 3 To the Duke of Marlborough: 35
• Impromptu on a Lady who had passed some Zephir or the Stratagem: 41
• Epigram Written at Tunbridge Wells 1760 16 Prologue to the Masque of Britannia: 47
• POEMS OF ARENSIDE: 57
• Hymn to Adversity 147 Ruins at Kingsgate in Kent 1766: 161
• An Epistle to Mr Pope from Rome 1730: 174
• To the Memory of the same Lady A: 180
• POEMS OF MOORE: 193
• The Authors Life by Mr Chalmers: 199
• Ode to Garrick upon the Talk of the Town: 205
• Thus I said to my heart in a: 218
• The Authors Life by Mr Chalmers: 230
• An Elegy to the Memory of Captain Hughes: 236
• The Regulation of the Passions the Source: 242
• The Authors Life by Mr Chalmers: 272
• The Apology Addressed to the Critical: 281
• The Prophecy of Famine A Scots Pastoral: 287
• The Ghost In four Books: 296
• The Authors Life by Mr Chalmers: 381
• The Shipwreck In three Cantos: 387
• Occasional Elegy in which the preceding Nar: 411
• The Authors Life by Mr Chalmers: 425
• Day A Pastoral: 431
• A Song sent to Chloe with a Rose: 437
• Anšther Inscription on the same House: 443
• A Prologue spoke at the Opening an elegant: 456
• POEMS OF GRAINGER: 469
• The Authors Life by Mr Chalmers 469 Book I: 475
• PoEMs of Boyse: 515
• To his Grace John Duke of Bedford with: 525
• Job Chapter iii: 538
• To a young Lady on her Recovery An Ode: 544
• Goodness: 550
• Translations: 557
• Poems Part I: 567

Popular passages

Page 148 - Full many a gem of purest ray serene, The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear : Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Some village-Hampden, that with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood ; Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood. Th...

Page 147 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.

Page 151 - Fair laughs the Morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes: Youth on the prow and Pleasure at the helm : Regardless of the sweeping Whirlwind's sway, That hushed in grim repose expects his evening prey.

Page 146 - The vultures of the mind, Disdainful anger, pallid fear, And shame that skulks behind ; Or pining love shall waste their youth, Or jealousy with rankling tooth That inly gnaws the secret heart, And envy wan, and faded care, Grim-visaged comfortless despair, And sorrow's piercing dart. Ambition this shall tempt to rise, Then whirl the wretch from high To bitter scorn a sacrifice And grinning infamy. The stings of falsehood those shall try, And hard unkindness

Page 149 - Man's feeble race what Ills await! Labour, and Penury, the racks of Pain, Disease, and Sorrow's weeping train, And Death, sad refuge from the storms of Fate!

Page 151 - Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, Ye died amidst your dying country's cries — No more I weep. They do not sleep. On yonder cliffs, a grisly band, I see them sit, they linger yet, Avengers of their native land : With me in dreadful harmony they join, And weave with bloody hands the tissue of thy line.

Page 146 - Say, Father Thames, for thou hast seen Full many a sprightly race Disporting on thy margent green The paths of pleasure trace; Who foremost now delight to cleave With pliant arm, thy glassy wave?

Page 148 - Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply: And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die.

Page 147 - How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke! Let not ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys, and destiny obscure; Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the poor. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave. Await alike the' inevitable hour: The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

Page 145 - But flutter through life's little day, In Fortune's varying colours drest, Brush'd by the hand of rough mischance, Or chill'd by age, their airy dance They leave, in dust to rest. Methinks I hear in accents low The sportive, kind reply : Poor moralist ! and what art thou ? A solitary fly ! Thy joys no glittering female meets, No hive hast thou of hoarded sweets, No painted plumage to display : On hasty wings thy youth is flown ; Thy sun is set, thy spring is gone — We frolic, while 'tis May.

Bibliographic information

• Title: The Works of the English Poets, from Chaucer to Cowper: Including the Series Edited with Prefaces, Biographical and Critical, Volume 14; Microbook library of English literature; The Works of the English Poets, from Chaucer to Cowper: Including the Series Edited with Prefaces, Biographical and Critical, Alexander Chalmers; Volume 14 of The Works of the English Poets: From Chaucer to Cowper; Including the Series Edited, with Prefaces, Biographical and Critical, by Dr. Samuel Johnson: and the Most Approved Translations, Alexander Chalmers
• Editor: Alexander Chalmers
• Translated by: Alexander Chalmers
• Publisher: J. Johnson, 1810
• Original from: the New York Public Library
• Digitized: Oct 5, 2006