Poems by Mr. GrayWilliam Sleater, 1768 - 187 pages |
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Page 19
Thomas Gray. O D E ON THE DEATH OF A FAVOURITE CAT , Drowned in a Tub of Gold Fishes . WAS on a lofty vafe's fide , " TW Where China's gayeft art had dy'd The azure flowers , that blow ; Demureft of the tabby kind , The penfive Selima ...
Thomas Gray. O D E ON THE DEATH OF A FAVOURITE CAT , Drowned in a Tub of Gold Fishes . WAS on a lofty vafe's fide , " TW Where China's gayeft art had dy'd The azure flowers , that blow ; Demureft of the tabby kind , The penfive Selima ...
Page 20
... Their fcaly armour's Tyrian hue Thro ' richest purple to the view Betray'd a golden gleam . The hapless Nymph with wonder faw , A whisker first , and then a claw ; With With many an ardent wifh , She stretch'd in vain 20 ODE ON THE DEATH ...
... Their fcaly armour's Tyrian hue Thro ' richest purple to the view Betray'd a golden gleam . The hapless Nymph with wonder faw , A whisker first , and then a claw ; With With many an ardent wifh , She stretch'd in vain 20 ODE ON THE DEATH ...
Page 31
... Death , More hideous than their Queen : This racks the joints , this fires the veins , That every labouring finew strains , Those in the deeper vitals rage : Lo , Poverty , to fill the band , That numbs the foul with icy hand , And flow ...
... Death , More hideous than their Queen : This racks the joints , this fires the veins , That every labouring finew strains , Those in the deeper vitals rage : Lo , Poverty , to fill the band , That numbs the foul with icy hand , And flow ...
Page 61
... Death , fad refuge from the ftorms of Fate ! The fond complaint , my Song , difprove , And juftify the laws of Jove . Say , has he giv'n in vain the heav'nly Mufe ? Night , and all her fickly dews , Her * Λάμπει δ ' ἐπι πορφυρέησι ...
... Death , fad refuge from the ftorms of Fate ! The fond complaint , my Song , difprove , And juftify the laws of Jove . Say , has he giv'n in vain the heav'nly Mufe ? Night , and all her fickly dews , Her * Λάμπει δ ' ἐπι πορφυρέησι ...
Page 70
... a Tradition current in Wales , that Edward THE FIRST , when he compleated the conquest of that country , ordered all the Bards , that fell into his hands , to be put to death . tá dutá dutá dutá dutá dutá ás THE BARD ,
... a Tradition current in Wales , that Edward THE FIRST , when he compleated the conquest of that country , ordered all the Bards , that fell into his hands , to be put to death . tá dutá dutá dutá dutá dutá ás THE BARD ,
Popular passages
Page 65 - This pencil take (she said) whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year : Thine, too, these golden keys, immortal Boy ! This can unlock the gates of Joy ; Of Horror that, and thrilling Fears, Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic Tears.
Page 61 - Man's feeble race what ills await ! . Labour, and Penury, the racks of Pain, Disease, and Sorrow's weeping train, And Death, sad refuge from the storms of fate ! The fond complaint, my song, disprove, And justify the laws of Jove.
Page 102 - Hoarse he bays with hideous din, Eyes that glow, and fangs that grin ; And long pursues, with fruitless yell, The father of the powerful spell.
Page 52 - Tis folly to be wise. HYMN TO ADVERSITY DAUGHTER of Jove, relentless power, Thou tamer of the human breast, Whose iron scourge and torturing hour The bad affright, afflict the best ! Bound in thy adamantine chain The proud are taught to taste of pain, And purple tyrants vainly groan With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone. When...
Page 31 - That every labouring sinew strains, Those in the deeper vitals rage: Lo! Poverty, to fill the band, That numbs the soul with icy hand, And slow-consuming Age. To each his sufferings: all are men, Condemned alike to groan; The tender for another's pain, Th
Page 68 - 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...
Page 22 - Eight times emerging from the flood She mew'd to ev'ry watry God, Some speedy aid to send. No Dolphin came, no Nereid stirr'd: Nor cruel Tom, nor Susan heard. A Fav'rite has no friend! From hence, ye Beauties, undeceiv'd, Know, one false step is ne'er retriev'd, And be with caution bold. Not all that tempts your wand'ring eyes And heedless hearts, is lawful prize; Nor all, that glisters, gold.
Page 147 - 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 137 - The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow'r, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Awaits alike th
Page 145 - On some fond breast the parting soul relies. Some pious drops the closing eye requires; Ev'n from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, Ev'n in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who mindful of th...