Poems. By Mr. Gray |
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Page xxxiv
... voice of love . Where , indulging mirthful pleasures , Light you press the flow'ry green , And from Flora's blooming treasures Cull the wreaths for fancy's queen . Where your gently - flowing numbers , Floating on the fragrant breeze ...
... voice of love . Where , indulging mirthful pleasures , Light you press the flow'ry green , And from Flora's blooming treasures Cull the wreaths for fancy's queen . Where your gently - flowing numbers , Floating on the fragrant breeze ...
Page 57
... voice in every wind , And fnatch a fearful joy . Gay hope is theirs by fancy fed , Lefs pleasing when poffeft ; The tear forgot as foon as fhed , The funshine of the breaft : 57 % Theirs Theirs buxom Health , of rofy hue , Wild wit.
... voice in every wind , And fnatch a fearful joy . Gay hope is theirs by fancy fed , Lefs pleasing when poffeft ; The tear forgot as foon as fhed , The funshine of the breaft : 57 % Theirs Theirs buxom Health , of rofy hue , Wild wit.
Page 79
... vengeful band ( As by the impious thou art seen ) With thund'ring voice , and threat'ning mien , With screaming Horror's funeral cry , Despair , and fell Disease , and ghaftly Poverty . F 3 Thy Thy form benign , oh Goddess , wear , Thy.
... vengeful band ( As by the impious thou art seen ) With thund'ring voice , and threat'ning mien , With screaming Horror's funeral cry , Despair , and fell Disease , and ghaftly Poverty . F 3 Thy Thy form benign , oh Goddess , wear , Thy.
Page 84
... the feather'd king With ruffled plumes , and flagging wing : Quench'd in dark clouds of flumber lie The terror of his beak , and light'nings of his eye . A PINDARIC ODE . I. 3 . Thee the voice 1. 3 . 84 THE PROGRESS OF POESY .
... the feather'd king With ruffled plumes , and flagging wing : Quench'd in dark clouds of flumber lie The terror of his beak , and light'nings of his eye . A PINDARIC ODE . I. 3 . Thee the voice 1. 3 . 84 THE PROGRESS OF POESY .
Page 85
Thomas Gray. A PINDARIC ODE . I. 3 . Thee the voice , the dance obey , Temper'd to thy warbled lay . O'er Idalia's velvet - green The rofy- crowned loves are seen On Cytherea's day With antic Sports , and blue - ey'd Pleasures , Frisking ...
Thomas Gray. A PINDARIC ODE . I. 3 . Thee the voice , the dance obey , Temper'd to thy warbled lay . O'er Idalia's velvet - green The rofy- crowned loves are seen On Cytherea's day With antic Sports , and blue - ey'd Pleasures , Frisking ...
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Common terms and phrases
Æolian againſt Bank Annuities Bard beneath bluſh breaſt breath Caernarvonshire Cambridge compenfation coufin COUNTRY CHURCH-YARD death defign defire Deſpair diftant dreft Duke of Grafton Edward Eirin ETON COLLEGE faid fame FATAL SISTERS fhade fhall fide firſt five hundred pounds fleep foft folar folemn fome fong forrow foul ftands ftate ftreaming ftrong fublime fuch Goddeſs hand Hauberk himſelf houſe Ibid James Browne King Lady laft laughing wild Love lyre majeſtic Margaret of Anjou Mary Antrobus Maſon moſt Mufe Mufic Muſe numbers o'er ODIN paffions perfon PETRARCH PINDARIC ODE pleaſe pleaſure Poet preſent publiſher Quarto Reduced Bank repoſe ſay ſeen ſhade ſhall ſhare ſhe ſmile ſome ſpread ſpring ſteep ſtrains ſtudy ſweet Talieffin TEARS OF GENIUS thee thefe theſe THOMAS GRAY thoſe thou thro Univerſity uſe verſes vifit voice wakes the dead Weave Weft Welſh whofe whoſe William Mafon
Popular passages
Page 156 - customed hill, Along the heath and near his favourite tree ; Another came ; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he : The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Page 56 - A stranger yet to pain ! I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wing My weary soul they seem to soothe, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring.
Page 100 - Fair laughs the Morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes: Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm: Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That hush'd in grim repose expects his evening prey.
Page 45 - To Contemplation's sober eye Such is the race of Man: And they that creep, and they that fly, Shall end where they began.
Page 91 - Yet shall he mount, and keep his distant way Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate. Beneath the Good how far— but far above the Great.
Page 96 - To arms ! cried Mortimer, and couch'd his quiv'ring lance.. I. 2 On a rock, whose haughty brow Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood, Robed in the sable garb of woe, With haggard eyes the Poet stood ; (Loose his beard, and hoary hair Stream'd, like a meteor, to the troubled air) And with a Master's hand, and Prophet's fire, Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre.
Page 156 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
Page 149 - THE CURFEW tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Page 60 - A grisly troop are seen, The painful family of Death, More hideous than their Queen: This racks the joints, this fires the veins, That every labouring sinew strains, Those in the deeper vitals rage: Lo!
Page 60 - Th' unfeeling for his own. Yet, ah ! why should they know their fate. Since sorrow never comes too late, And happiness too swiftly flies? Thought would destroy their paradise! No more; — where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.