A Collection of Poems ...

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Robert Dodsley
J. Hughs, 1758
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Страница 221 - I've got it yet, And can produce it." " Pray, sir, do ; I'll lay my life the thing is blue." " And I'll be sworn, that when you've seen The reptile, you'll pronounce him green.
Страница 221 - cease your pother, the creature's neither one nor t'other ; I caught the animal last night, and viewed it o'er by candlelight — I marked it well — 'twas black as jet -You stare — but sirs, I've got it yet, and can produce it.
Страница 220 - tis green, sir, I assure ye." " Green!" cries the other in a fury: " Why, sir, d'ye think I've lost my eyes?" " 'Twere no great loss," the friend replies; " For if they always serve you thus, You'll find them but of little use.
Страница 41 - His bofom, now fo void of care ; And, when they left his ebbing vein, What, but...
Страница 34 - When founds etherial ftrike my ear ; At once celeftial forms appear ; My fugitives are found ! The mufes here attune their lyres, Ah partial ! with unwonted fires ; Here, hand in hand, with carelefs mien, The fportive graces trip the green. But...
Страница 161 - I see the godlings with surprise. Not knowing home in such a plight, Fly to and' fro, afraid to light. — Far from my theme, from method far, Convey'd in Venus' flying car, I go compell'd by feather'd steeds, That scorn the rein, when Delia leads.
Страница 113 - WHILE at the helm of state you ride, Our nation's envy, and its pride ; While foreign courts with wonder gaze, And curse those councils which they praise ; Would you not wonder, sir, to view Your bard a greater man than you ? Which that he is, you cannot doubt, When you have read the sequel out. You know, great sir, that ancient fellows, Philosophers, and such folks, tell us, No great analogy between Greatness and happiness is seen. If then, as it might follow straight, Wretched to be, is to be great....
Страница 8 - Lo ! not an hedge-row hawthorn blows, Or humble hare-bell paints the plain, Or valley winds, or fountain flows, Or purple heath is ting'd in vain : For fuch the rivers dafh the foaming tides, The mountain fwells, the dale fubfides ; Ev'n thriftlefs furze detains their wandering fight, And the rough barren rock grows pregnant with delight.
Страница 221 - My children," the chameleon cries, (Then first the creature found a tongue), "You all are right, and all are wrong: When next you talk of what you view, Think others see as well as you: Nor wonder, if you find that none Prefers your eyesight to his own.
Страница 44 - DAMON'S native plains belong. Tell her, in livelier plumes array'd, The bird from Indian groves may fhine ; But afk the lovely partial maid, What are his notes compar'd to thine ? Then bid her treat yon...