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Strana 146 - I'll example you with thievery: The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun...
Strana 122 - Of flutes and soft recorders; such as raised To highth of noblest temper heroes old Arming to battle; and instead of rage Deliberate valour breathed, firm and unmoved With dread of death to flight or foul retreat; Nor wanting power to mitigate and swage With solemn touches troubled thoughts, and chase Anguish, and doubt, and fear, and sorrow, and pain, From mortal or immortal minds.
Strana 122 - Anon they move In perfect phalanx to the Dorian mood Of flutes and soft recorders...
Strana 51 - Flavia the least and slightest toy Can with resistless art employ. This Fan in meaner hands would prove An engine of small force in love ; But she, with such an air and mien, Not to be told or safely seen, Directs its wanton motions so, That it wounds more than Cupid's bow ; Gives coolness to the matchless dame, To every other breast a flame.
Strana 62 - I'll follow', we read a translation of I prae, sequar. I have been told that when Caliban, after a pleasing dream, says, 'I cried to sleep again', the author imitates Anacreon, who had, like every other man, the same wish on the same occasion.
Strana 132 - Nor clos'd in sleep his ever-watchful eyes. There view'd the Pleiads, and the northern team, And great Orion's more refulgent beam, To which, around the axle of the sky The bear revolving, points his golden eye: Who shines exalted on the' ethereal plain, Nor bathes his blazing forehead in the main.
Strana 70 - Greeks! for not as foes ye came; To me more dear than all that bear the name.' With that, the chiefs beneath his roof he led, And placed in seats with purple carpets spread. Then thus—' Patroclus, crown a larger bowl, Mix purer wine, and open every soul. Of all the warriors yonder host can send, Thy friend most honours'these, and these thy friend.
Strana 154 - The common cares that nourish life, forego. Not thus did Niobe, of form divine, A parent once, whose sorrows...
Strana 154 - So was her pride chastis'd by wrath divine, Who match'd her own with bright Latona's line ; But two the goddess, twelve the queen enjoy'd ; Those boasted twelve th
Strana 154 - Those boasted twelve th' avenging two destroy'd. Steep'd in their blood, and in the dust outspread, Nine days, neglected, lay expos'd the dead ; None by to weep them, to inhume them none ; (For Jove had turn'd the nation all to stone ;) 770 The gods themselves, at length, relenting, gave Th' unhappy race the honours of a grave.