The Works of Alexander Pope, Esq: In Nine Volumes Complete, with His Last Corrections, Additions, and Improvements, as They Were Delivered to the Editor a Little Before His Death, Together with the Commentary and Notes of Mr. Warburton, Volume 2A. Millar, J. and R. Tonson, C. Bathurst, R. Baldwin, W. Johnston, J. Richardson, B. Law, S. Crowder, T. Longman, T. Field, and T. Caslon, 1760 |
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Page 190
... tenuere morae , ftagnoque refusa est Funditus , et veteri spumávit Lerna vehenô . Frangitur omne nemus ; rapiunt antiqua procellae No faint reflections of the distant light Streak with long 190 STATII THEBAIDOS LIB.I.
... tenuere morae , ftagnoque refusa est Funditus , et veteri spumávit Lerna vehenô . Frangitur omne nemus ; rapiunt antiqua procellae No faint reflections of the distant light Streak with long 190 STATII THEBAIDOS LIB.I.
Page 227
... in particu lar the Transformation of her fifter Dryope , which is the fubject of the enfuing Fable . P. Excipit Andraemon ; et habetur conjuge felix . Est lacus Q3 ( 227 ) The FABLE of DRYOPE, from Ovid's Meta- morphofes.
... in particu lar the Transformation of her fifter Dryope , which is the fubject of the enfuing Fable . P. Excipit Andraemon ; et habetur conjuge felix . Est lacus Q3 ( 227 ) The FABLE of DRYOPE, from Ovid's Meta- morphofes.
Page 228
... Est lacus , acclivi devexo margine formam 15 Littoris efficiers : fummum myrteta coronant . Veneret huc Dryope fatorum nefcia ; quoque Indignere magis , Nymphis latura coronas . Inque finu uerum , qui nondum impleverat annum , Dulce ...
... Est lacus , acclivi devexo margine formam 15 Littoris efficiers : fummum myrteta coronant . Veneret huc Dryope fatorum nefcia ; quoque Indignere magis , Nymphis latura coronas . Inque finu uerum , qui nondum impleverat annum , Dulce ...
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The Works of Alexander Pope, Esq: In Nine Volumes Complete, with His Last ... Alexander Pope,William Warburton No preview available - 2016 |
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Page 36 - The darksome pines, that o'er yon rocks reclin'd, Wave high, and murmur to the hollow wind, The wandering streams that shine between the hills, The grots that echo to the tinkling rills, The dying gales that pant upon the trees, The lakes that quiver to the curling breeze...
Page 35 - With other beauties charm my partial eyes, Full in my view set all the bright abode, And make my soul quit Abelard for God. Ah think at least thy flock deserves thy care, Plants of thy hand, and children of thy pray'r.
Page 30 - Still breath'd in sighs, still usher'd with a tear. I tremble too, where'er my own I find, Some dire misfortune follows close behind. Line after line my gushing eyes o'erflow...
Page 33 - em all: Not Caesar's empress would I deign to prove; No, make me mistress to the man I love; If there be yet another name more free, More fond than mistress, make me that to thee!
Page 37 - Ev'n here, where frozen chastity retires, Love finds an altar for forbidden fires. I ought to grieve, but cannot what I ought; I mourn the lover, not lament the fault; I view my crime, but kindle at the view...
Page 40 - Stain all my soul, and wanton in my eyes. I waste the Matin lamp in sighs for thee, Thy image steals between my God and me, Thy voice I seem in...
Page 26 - midst the stars inscribe Belinda's name. ELOISA TO ABELARD ARGUMENT ABELARD and Eloisa flourished in the twelfth Century; they were two of the most distinguished Persons of their age in learning and beauty, but for nothing more famous than for their unfortunate passion. After a long course of calamities, they retired each to a several Convent, and consecrated the remainder of their days to religion.
Page 34 - Still on that breast enamour'd let me lie, Still drink delicious poison from thy eye, Pant on thy lip, and to thy heart be press'd; Give all thou canst — and let me dream the rest.
Page 31 - Yet write, oh write me all, that I may join Griefs to thy griefs, and echo sighs to thine. Nor foes nor fortune take this pow'r away; And is my Abelard less kind than they?
Page 29 - Contemplation dwells, And ever-musing Melancholy reigns, What means this tumult in a vestal's veins ? Why rove my thoughts beyond this last retreat ? Why feels my heart its long-forgotten heat ? Yet, yet I love ! — From Abelard it came, And Eloi'sa yet must kiss the name.