A Tractate on Language: With Observations on the French Tongue, Eastern Tongues and Times, and Chapters on Literal Symbols, Philology and Letters, Figures of Speech, Rhyme, Time and Longevity

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H.G. Bohn, 1860 - 388 pages
 

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Page 323 - Pure as the expanse of heaven ; I thither went With unexperienced thought, and laid me down On the green bank, to look into the clear Smooth lake, that to me seemed another sky As I bent down to look, just opposite A shape within the watery gleam appear'd, Bending to look on me : I started back, It started back : but pleased I soon return'd, Pleased it return'd as soon with answering looks Of .sympathy and love...
Page 313 - No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both, That all the world shall I will do such things What they are yet I know not ; but they shall be The terrors of the earth.
Page 311 - fair light, And thou enlighten'd earth, so fresh and gay, Ye hills, and dales, ye rivers, woods, and plains, And ye that live and move, fair creatures, tell, Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here?
Page 306 - Upon himself; horror and doubt distract His troubled thoughts, and from the bottom stir The Hell within him; for within him Hell He brings, and round about him, nor from Hell One step, no more than from himself, can fly By change of place...
Page 263 - O'er bog or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare, With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way, And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies.
Page 159 - We, ignorant of ourselves, Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers Deny us for our good ; so find we profit, By losing of our prayers.
Page 48 - Now we know that God heareth not sinners: but if any man be a worshipper of God, and doeth his will, him he heareth.
Page 312 - O unexpected stroke, worse than of death ! Must I thus leave thee, Paradise? thus leave Thee, native soil, these happy walks and shades, Fit haunt of gods? where I had hope to spend, Quiet though sad, the respite of that day That must be mortal to us both.
Page 142 - tis his fancy to run, At night he declines on his Thetis's breast. " So, when I am wearied with wandering all day, To thee, my delight, in the evening I come; No matter what beauties I saw in my way, They were but my visits, but thou art my home ! " Then finish, dear Chloe, this pastoral war, And let us like Horace and Lydia agree ; For thou art a girl as much brighter than her, As he was a poet sublimer than me.
Page 309 - If I climb up into heaven, thou art there: If I go down to hell, thou art there also.

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