The poetical works of William Collins, with the comm. of Langhorne. To which is prefixed some account of the life of Collins by dr. Johnson1804 |
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Page 33
... who view the shrine . There Picture's toils shall well relate , How chance , or hard involving fate , 2 The river Arun runs by the village in Sussex , where Otway had his birth . C O'er mortal bliss prevail : The buskin'd Muse shall near ...
... who view the shrine . There Picture's toils shall well relate , How chance , or hard involving fate , 2 The river Arun runs by the village in Sussex , where Otway had his birth . C O'er mortal bliss prevail : The buskin'd Muse shall near ...
Page 34
... Muse shall near her stand , And sighing prompt her tender hand , With each disastrous tale . There let me oft , retir'd by day , In dreams of passion melt away , Allow'd with thee to dwell : There waste the mournful lamp of night , Till ...
... Muse shall near her stand , And sighing prompt her tender hand , With each disastrous tale . There let me oft , retir'd by day , In dreams of passion melt away , Allow'd with thee to dwell : There waste the mournful lamp of night , Till ...
Page 36
... Muse addrest her infant tongue ; The maids and matrons , on her awful voice , Silent and pale , in wild amazement hung . Yet he , the bard ' who first invok'd thy name , Disdain'd in Marathon its power to feel : For not alone he nurs'd ...
... Muse addrest her infant tongue ; The maids and matrons , on her awful voice , Silent and pale , in wild amazement hung . Yet he , the bard ' who first invok'd thy name , Disdain'd in Marathon its power to feel : For not alone he nurs'd ...
Page 55
... Muse , Beyond yon braided clouds that lie , Paving the light - embroider'd sky , Amidst the bright pavilion'd plains , The beauteous model still remains . There , happier than in islands blest , Or bow'rs by spring or Hebe drest , The ...
... Muse , Beyond yon braided clouds that lie , Paving the light - embroider'd sky , Amidst the bright pavilion'd plains , The beauteous model still remains . There , happier than in islands blest , Or bow'rs by spring or Hebe drest , The ...
Page 59
... an heart , These pictur'd glories nought impart , To dry thy constant tear : If yet , in Sorrow's distant eye , Expos'd and pale thou see'st him lie , Wild War insulting near : Where'er from time thou court'st relief , The Muse shall 59.
... an heart , These pictur'd glories nought impart , To dry thy constant tear : If yet , in Sorrow's distant eye , Expos'd and pale thou see'st him lie , Wild War insulting near : Where'er from time thou court'st relief , The Muse shall 59.
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The Poetical Works of William Collins, with the Comm. of Langhorne. to Which ... William Collins No preview available - 2016 |
Common terms and phrases
Abra lov'd AGIB allegorical ancient ANTISTROPHE bard beautiful blank verse blast blest boast breathe Brownie charm Circassia Collins CYMBELINE death delight dreary drest Druid dwell E'en epithalamium ev'ry eyes fair fairy Fancy fear flowers fond genius Georgian maid golden hair Greece green grief grove hail hand happy haste haunt hear heard heart Hebrides hour imagery isle John Sharpe luckless lyre lyric magic maid like Abra midst mind moral mountains mourn mov'd murmurs muse myrtles native nature Ne'er numbers Nymph o'er Oriental Eclogues passions pastoral Pity Pity's plain poems poet poet's poetical poetry Polynices rage round royal Abbas rural scene Schiraz sentiment shade shepherds sighs SIR THOMAS HANMER soft song Sophocles sounds springs strain sullen sung swain sweet tears tender thee Theocritus thou thought toil truth vale verse virtue voice of Peace watchet wild wizzard youth εν
Popular passages
Page 72 - And though sometimes, each dreary pause between, Dejected Pity, at his side, Her soul-subduing voice applied, Yet still he kept his wild unaltered mien, While each strained ball of sight seemed bursting from his head.
Page 71 - tis said, when all were fired, Fill'd with fury, rapt, inspired, From the supporting myrtles round They snatch'd her instruments of sound,' And, as they oft had heard apart Sweet lessons of her forceful art, Each (for madness ruled the hour) Would prove his own expressive power, FIRST Fear his hand, its skill to try, Amid the chords bewilder'd laid, And back recoil'd, he knew not why, E'en at the sound himself had made.
Page 46 - How sleep the Brave who sink to rest By all their country's wishes blest! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.
Page 70 - When Music, heavenly maid, was young, While yet in early Greece she sung, The Passions oft, to hear her shell, Thronged around her magic cell...
Page 85 - No wither'd witch shall here be seen, No goblins lead their nightly crew ; The female fays shall haunt the green, And dress thy grave with pearly dew. The redbreast oft at evening hours Shall kindly lend his little aid, With hoary moss and gather'd flowers, To deck the ground where thou art laid.
Page 138 - Who slept in buds the day, And many a nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge, And sheds the freshening dew, and lovelier still, The pensive pleasures sweet Prepare thy shadowy car.
Page 45 - While on its rich ambitious head, An Eden, like his own, lies spread. I view that oak, the fancied glades among, By which as Milton lay, his evening ear, From many a cloud that dropp'd ethereal dew, Nigh spher'd in heaven, its native strains could hear...
Page 8 - That this man, wise and virtuous as he was, passed always unentangled through the snares of life, it would be prejudice and temerity to affirm; but it may be said that at least he preserved the source of action unpolluted, that his principles were never shaken, that his distinctions of right and wrong were never confounded, and that his faults had nothing of malignity or design, but proceeded from some unexpected pressure, or casual temptation.
Page 142 - twas wild. But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair, What was thy delighted measure ! Still it whispered promised pleasure, And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail...
Page 22 - What if the lion in his rage I meet ! Oft in the dust I view his printed feet : And fearful ! oft, when day's declining light Yields her pale empire to the mourner night, By hunger...