The Greek tragic theatre: containing Æschylus by dr. Potter, Sophocles by dr. Francklin, and Euripides by M. Wodhull. With a dissertation on ancient tragedy, by T. Francklin, Volume 1

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Page 150 - Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep. All these with ceaseless praise his works behold Both day and night : how often from the steep Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard Celestial voices to the midnight air, Sole, or responsive each to other's note, Singing their great Creator...
Page xxxvii - The lonely mountains o'er And the resounding shore A voice of weeping heard, and loud lament; From haunted spring and dale Edged with poplar pale The parting Genius is with sighing sent; With flower-inwoven tresses torn The Nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn.
Page 395 - Jupiter, which is the name they give to the whole circuit of the firmament. They likewise offer to the sun and moon, to the earth, to fire, to water, and to the winds. These are the only gods whose worship has come down to them from ancient times.
Page 37 - By'r lady, your ladyship is nearer to heaven, than when I saw you last, by the altitude of a chopine.
Page 192 - Chrysa's shores : If e'er with wreaths I hung thy sacred fane, Or fed the flames with fat of oxen slain ; God of the silver bow ! thy shafts employ, Avenge thy servant, and the Greeks destroy." 60 Thus Chryses pray'd : the fav'ring power attends, And from Olympus
Page 377 - Little conceiving of the wiles of Greece And gods averse, to all the naval leaders Gave his high charge: "Soon as yon sun shall cease To dart his radiant beams, and dark'ning night Ascends the temple of the sky, arrange In three divisions your well-ordered ships, And guard each pass, each outlet of the seas: Others enring around this rocky isle Of Salamis. Should Greece escape her fate, And work her way by secret flight, your heads Shall answer the neglect.
Page 234 - I struck him twice, and twice He groan'd ; then died ; a third time as he lay I gored him with a wound ; a grateful present To the stern god, that in the realms below Reigns o'er the dead : there let him take his seat. He lay : and, spouting from his wounds a stream Of blood, brdew'd me with these crimson drops. I glory in them, like the genial earth, When the warm showers of heaven descend, and wake The tiowrets to unfold their vermeil leaves.
Page xxxiii - Obscure they went through dreary shades, that led Along the waste dominions of the dead. Thus wander travellers in woods by night, By the moon's doubtful and malignant light, When Jove in dusky clouds involves the skies, And the faint crescent shoots by fits before their eyes.
Page 131 - Clad in these proud habiliments, he stands Close to the river's margin, and with shouts Demands the war, like an impatient steed, That pants upon the foaming curb, and waits With fiery expectation the known signal, Swift at the trumpet's sound to burst away.
Page xxiii - ... judices, ut a nullius umquam me tempore aut commodo aut otium meum abstraxerit aut voluptas avocarjt aut denique somnus retardant ? Quare quis tandem me reprehendat aut quis mihi jure succenseat, si quantum ceteris ad suas res obeundas...

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