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Page 263 - still had hopes—for pride attends us still— Amidst the swains to show my book-learned skill. Around my fire an evening group to draw, And, tell of all I felt and all I saw ; And, as a hare, whom hounds and horns pursue, Pants to the place from whence at first she flew — I
Page 408 - Cordelia, Cordelia, stay a little!' " 'Vex not his ghost—oh! let him pass—he hates him That would upon the rack of this tough world Stretch him out longer!' Hush, Strife and Quarrel, over the solemn grave! Sound, Trumpets, a mournful march! Fall, Dark Curtain, upon his pageant, his pride, his grief, his awful tragedy!
Page 172 - 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 ; Alike reserved to blame as to commend, A timorous foe and a suspicious friend , Dreading even fools, by flatterers besieged. And so obliging that he ne'er obliged
Page 263 - from care that never must be mine— How blest is he who crowns in shades like these, A youth of labour with an age of ease ; Who quits a world where strong temptations try And, since 'tis hard to combat, learns to fly ! For him no wretches bora to work and weep
Page 90 - spread the truth from pole to pole. What though, in solemn silence, all Move round this dark terrestrial ball; What though no real voice nor sound. Among their radiant orbs be found ; In reason's ear they all rejoice, And utter forth a glorious voice. For ever singing as they shine, The
Page 81 - Cato ran for thirty-five nights without interruption. Pope wrote the Prologue, and Garth the Epilogue. It is worth noticing how many things in Cato keep their ground as habitual quotations, e. g.:— " .... big with the fate Of Cato and of Rome." " 'Tis not in mortals to command success, But we'll do more, Sempronius, well
Page 291 - and compose them ; And her eyes close them, Staring so blindly ! Dreadfully staring Through muddy impurity, As when with the daring Last look of despairing Fixed on futurity. Perishing gloomily, Spurred by contumely. Cold inhumanity. Burning insanity, Into her rest. Cross her hands humbly As if praying dumbly,
Page 263 - to pain. In all my wanderings round this world of care, In all my griefs—and God has given my share, I still had hopes my latest hours to crown, Amidst these humhle bowers to lay me down
Page 88 - The Court was sat before Sir Roger came ; but, notwithstanding all the jus tices had taken their places upon the bench, they made room for the old knight at the head of them ; who for his reputation in the country took occasion to whisper in the judge's ear that he was glad his lordship had