Picturesque Views on the Upper, Or Warwickshire Avon: From Its Sources at Naseby to Its Junction with the Severn at Tewkesbury: with Observations on the Public Buildings, and Other Works of Art in Its Vicinity

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R. Faulder and T. Egerton, 1795 - Avon, River (Leicestershire-Gloucestershire, England) - 284 pages
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Page 188 - Triumph, my Britain! Thou hast one to show To whom all scenes of Europe homage owe. He was not of an age, but for all time; And all the muses still were in their prime When, like Apollo, he came forth to warm Our ears, or like a Mercury to charm. Nature herself was proud of his designs And joyed to wear the dressing of his lines, Which were so richly spun and woven so fit As, since, she will vouchsafe no other wit.
Page 157 - To-day, my lord of Amiens and myself Did steal behind him, as he lay along Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out Upon the brook that brawls along this wood; To the which place a poor sequester'd stag, That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt, Did come to languish...
Page 230 - Jonson art. He, monarch-like, gave those his subjects law, And is that Nature which they paint and draw. Fletcher reach'd that which on his heights did grow, Whilst Jonson crept and gather'd all below.
Page 12 - ... laid exactly flat upon it; care being taken that the surplus mould should be clean removed. Soon after the like care was taken that the ground should be ploughed up, and it was sowed successively with corn.
Page 127 - Where with my hands I hewed a house Out of a craggy rocke of stone ; .). And lived like a palmer poore Within that cave myself alone : And daylye came to begg my bread Of Phelis att my castle gate ; Not knowne unto my loved wiffe.
Page 230 - Johnson crept and gather'd all below. This did his Love, and this his Mirth digest: One imitates him most, the other best. If they have since out-writ all other men, 'Tis with the drops which fell from Shakespear's Pen.
Page 48 - Alas! what a folly, that wealth and domain We heap up in sin and in sorrow! Immense is the toil, yet the labour how vain! Is not life to be over tomorrow? Then glide on my moments, the few that I have, Smooth-shaded, and quiet, and even; While gently the body descends to the grave, And the spirit arises to Heaven.
Page 188 - Shakespear's warblings wild? Whom on the winding Avon's willow'd banks Fair fancy found, and bore the smiling babe To a close cavern: (still the shepherds shew The sacred place, whence with religious awe They hear, returning from the field at eve, Strange whisp'rings of sweet musick thro...
Page 230 - That fox'da beggar so (by chance was found ' Sleeping) that there needed not many a word ' To make him to believe he was a lord: ' But you affirm (and in it seem most eager) * ' Twill make a lord as drunk as any beggar. ' Bid Norton brew such ale as Shakspeare fancies ' Did put Kit Sly into such lordly trances: ' And let us meet there (for a fit of gladness) ' And drink ourselves merry in sober sadness.
Page 286 - While Butler, needy wretch, was yet alive. No generous patron would a dinner give : See him, when starved to death, and turned to dust, Presented with a monumental bust. The poet's fate is here in emblem shown : He asked for bread, and he received a stone.

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