The Poetical Preceptor; Or, A Collection of Select Pieces of Poetry: Extracted from the Works of the Most Eminent English Poets ... and Calculated for the Use, Not Only of Schools, But of Private Gentlemen

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W. J. and J. Richardson; Wilkie and Robinson; G. Robinson; F. and C. Rivington; Scatcherd and Letterman; C. Law; Longman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme; and Lackington and Company, 1806 - English poetry - 380 pages
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Page 251 - Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world, Like a Colossus ; and we petty men Walk under his huge legs, and peep about To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
Page 195 - With thee conversing I forget all time ; All seasons and their change, all please alike. Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds ; pleasant the sun When first on this delightful land he spreads His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, Glistering with dew ; fragrant the fertile earth After soft showers ; and sweet the coming on Of grateful evening mild...
Page 137 - Dancing in the chequer'd shade; And young and old come forth to play On a sunshine holiday, Till the livelong daylight fail...
Page 141 - Pelops' line, Or the tale of Troy divine, Or what (though rare) of later age Ennobled hath the buskined stage. But, O sad virgin, that thy power Might raise Musaeus from his bower! Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing Such notes as, warbled to the string, Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, And made Hell grant what love did seek...
Page 255 - tis, to cast one's eyes so low! The crows and choughs, that wing the midway air, Show scarce so gross as beetles : Half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire; dreadful trade! Methinks, he seems no bigger than his head: The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, Appear like mice; and yon...
Page 235 - Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host, That he which hath no stomach to this fight, Let him depart ; his passport shall be made And crowns for convoy put into his purse. We would not die in that man's company That fears his fellowship to die with us. This day is called the feast of Crispian.
Page 237 - Since nought so stockish, hard and full of rage, But music for the time doth change his nature. The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils ; The motions of his spirit are dull as night And his affections dark as Erebus : Let no such man be trusted.
Page 264 - That to the observer doth thy history Fully unfold. Thyself and thy belongings Are not thine own so proper, as to waste Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee. Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, Not light them for themselves ; for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike As if we had them not.
Page 42 - Ten thousand thousand precious gifts My daily thanks employ, Nor is the least a cheerful heart, That tastes those gifts with joy.
Page 138 - And ever against eating cares Lap me in soft Lydian airs Married to immortal verse, Such as the meeting soul may pierce In notes, with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out, With wanton heed and giddy cunning, The melting voice through mazes running, Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony; That Orpheus...

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