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ariſe aſk beſt blaſt bleſs'd bliſs bluſhing boaſt boſom breaſt caſt cauſe charms cloſe courſe deſcend deſpair diſtant eaſe ev'ry evíry eyes fair falſe fame fate fighs firſt flowírs Friendſhip genírous grace grief grove haſte heart Heav'n himſelf juſt laſt loſt lovíd maid mind moſt Muſe muſt Nut-brown Maid nymph o'er paſs paſſion pleaſe pleaſure pow'r praiſe pride purſue rage raiſe Reaſon reſt riſe roſe ſacred ſad ſaid ſame ſaw ſay ſcarce ſcenes ſcorn ſea ſeat ſecret ſee ſeek ſeems ſeen ſenſe ſet ſhade ſhall ſhame ſhare ſhe ſhed ſhew ſhine ſhore ſhould ſhun ſkies ſkill ſky ſmiles ſoft ſolemn ſome ſong ſons ſoon ſorrow ſoul ſound ſpeak ſpread ſpring ſtand ſtate ſteps ſtill ſtood ſtore ſtorms ſtrain ſtream ſtrength ſuch ſun ſure ſway ſweet tears thee theſe thoſe thou thouſand thro toil verſe waſte Whilſt whoſe wiſe wiſh youth
Page 273 - His fall was destined to a barren strand, A petty fortress, and a dubious hand ; He left the name, at which the world grew pale, To point a moral, or adorn a tale.
Page 160 - But ah ! what pen his piteous plight may trace ? Or what device his loud laments explain? The form uncouth of his disguised face ? The pallid hue that dyes his looks amain ? The plenteous shower that does his cheek distain...
Page 414 - What recks it them? What need they? They are sped; And when they list, their lean and flashy songs Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw ; The hungry sheep look up and are not fed, But swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly and foul contagion spread; Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw Daily devours apace, and nothing said. But that two-handed engine at the door Stands ready to smite once and smite no more.
Page 217 - Without a vain, without a grudging heart, To him who gives us all, I yield a part ; From him you come, for him accept it here, A frank and sober, more than costly cheer.
Page 272 - On what foundation stands the warrior's pride, How just his hopes let Swedish Charles decide ; A frame of adamant, a soul of fire, No dangers fright him, and no labours tire ; O'er love, o'er fear, extends his wide domain, Unconquer'd lord of pleasure and of pain ; No joys to him pacific...
Page 15 - What conscience dictates to be done, Or warns me not to do, This teach me more than hell to shun, That more than heaven pursue.
Page 415 - There entertain him all the saints above In solemn troops, and sweet societies, That sing, and singing, in their glory move, And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
Page 448 - Dear is that shed to which his soul conforms, And dear that hill which lifts him to the storms; And as a child, when scaring sounds molest, Clings close and closer to the mother's breast, So the loud torrent, and the whirlwind's roar, But bind him to his native mountains more.