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Addison admirable ancient appears beauty Boileau Book called character CHIG correct critic edition equal Essay ev'ry excellent expression eyes fair fields fire genius give given grace hand happy head hear heart Homer honour imagination IMITATIONS Italy judge judgment kind King language lays learned less Letters light lines living Lock Lord lost manner mean mentioned mind Muse nature never NOTES numbers o'er observations once opinion original painted passage Pastorals perhaps person piece plain play poem poet poetry Pope praise published reason REMARKS rise rules satire says scene seems sense shade sing sound speak spirit spring taste thing thought tragedy translation true truth turn verse Virgil whole write written wrote
Page 215 - HAPPY the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air, In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire, Whose trees in summer yield him shade, In winter fire.
Page 227 - To tire our patience, than mislead our sense. Some few in that, but numbers err in this, Ten censure wrong for one who writes amiss; A fool might once himself alone expose, Now one in verse makes many more in prose. 'Tis with our judgments as our watches, none Go just alike, yet each believes his own.
Page 375 - Now Jove suspends his golden scales in air, Weighs the men's wits against the lady's hair; The doubtful beam long nods from side to side; At length the wits mount up, the hairs subside. See fierce Belinda on the baron flies, With more than usual lightning in her eyes: Nor fear'd the chief th' unequal fight to try, Who sought no more than on his foe to die.
Page 276 - The sound must seem an echo to the sense. Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows; But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar. When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, The line too labours, and the words move slow; Not so, when swift Camilla scours the plain, Flies o'er th' unbending corn, and skims along the main.
Page 269 - Words are like leaves; and where they most abound, Much fruit of sense beneath is rarely found...
Page 237 - First follow Nature, and your judgment frame By her just standard, which is still the same...
Page 343 - Now awful beauty puts on all its arms ; The fair each moment rises in her charms, Repairs her smiles, awakens every grace, And calls forth all the wonders of her face : Sees by degrees a purer blush arise, And keener lightnings quicken in her eyes.
Page 218 - Hark! they whisper; Angels say, Sister Spirit, come away. What is this absorbs me quite? Steals my senses, shuts my sight, Drowns my spirits, draws my breath?
Page 219 - VITAL spark of heavenly flame! Quit, O quit this mortal frame ! Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying, O, the pain, the bliss of dying ! Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife, And let me languish into life! Hark! they whisper; angels say, Sister spirit, come away!
Page 151 - The rocks proclaim th' approaching Deity. Lo, Earth receives him from the bending skies! Sink down, ye mountains! and ye valleys, rise! With heads declined, ye cedars, homage pay! Be smooth, ye rocks! ye rapid floods, give way! The Saviour comes! by ancient bards foretold: Hear him, ye deaf! and all ye blind, behold! He from thick films shall purge the visual ray, And on the sightless eyeball pour the day: Tis he th...