The works of the English poets. With prefaces, biographical and critical, by S. Johnson

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1790
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Page 105 - Oppress'd with numbers in th' unequal field, His men discourag'd, and himself expell'd, Let him for succour sue from place to place, Torn from his subjects, and his son's embrace.
Page 164 - Just in the gate, and in the jaws of hell, Revengeful Cares and sullen Sorrows dwell, And pale Diseases, and repining Age, Want, Fear, and Famine's unresisted rage; Here Toils, and Death, and Death's half-brother, Sleep, (Forms terrible to view) their sentry keep; With anxious Pleasures of a guilty mind, Deep Frauds before, and open Force behind; The Furies...
Page 313 - Why do you then these needless arms prepare, And thus provoke a people prone to war? Did I with fire the Trojan town deface, Or hinder from return your exil'd race? Was I the cause of mischief, or the man Whose lawless lust the fatal war began? Think on whose faith th' adult'rous youth relied; Who promis'd, who procur'd, the Spartan bride? When all th...
Page 188 - High as the Mother of the Gods in place, And proud, like her, of an immortal race. Then, when in pomp she makes the Phrygian round, With golden turrets on her temples crown'd; A hundred gods her sweeping train supply; Her offspring all, and all command the sky.
Page 148 - And, lighting on thy prow, the form of Phorbas wears. Then thus the traitor god began his tale: "The winds, my friend, inspire a pleasing gale; The ships, without thy care, securely sail. Now steal an hour of sweet repose; and I Will take the rudder and thy room supply.
Page 226 - For strong Alcides, after he had slain The triple Geryon, drove from conquer'd Spain His captive herds ; and, thence in triumph led, On Tuscan Tiber's flow'ry banks they fed.
Page 343 - Then, as a hungry lion, who beholds A gamesome goat who frisks about the folds, Or beamy stag that grazes on the plain — He runs, he roars, he shakes his rising mane; • He grins, and opens wide his greedy jaws : The prey lies panting underneath his paws : He fills his famish'd maw ; his mouth runs o'er With unchew'd morsels, while he churns the gore...
Page 300 - Phoebus' name, To keep from fight the youth too fond of fame. Undaunted, they themselves no danger shun: From wall to wall the shouts and...
Page 298 - Th' inverted lance makes furrows in the plain. E'en time, that changes all, yet changes us in vain — The body, not the mind — nor can control Th' immortal vigor, or abate the soul.
Page 69 - For, gorg'd with flesh, and drunk with human wine While fast asleep the giant lay supine, Snoring aloud, and belching from his maw His indigested foam, and morsels raw; We pray; we cast the lots, and then surround...

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