Bell's Edition: The Poets of Great Britain Complete from Chaucer to Churchill ...J. Bell, 1797 |
Common terms and phrases
arms beauty Belgia beneath bless blest breast Britain charms Chloe command confest cruel cry'd Cupid dame darts dear Columbo death delight Derry destin'd dread dy'd e'er earth ev'ning ev'ry eyes fair fame Fate fear flame flow'rs France giv'n give glorious glory Goddess Gods grace grief hand happy hast heart Heav'n hero HINCHINBROKE Hippolytus honest honour Jove Katharine Philips kind king live look Lord LORD BUCKHURST lov'd lyre maid marry'd MATTHEW PRIOR mighty Muse Namur ne'er never night numbers Nut-brown Maid nymph o'er pain peace Phillis pleas'd pleasure poet poor pow'r praise pray'r pride Protogenes Queen quoth rage receiv'd reign reply'd Sambre sav'd sigh sing soldiers food song soul tell thee things thou thought thro to-morrow truth twas Venus verse vex'd virtue ween weep Whilst wife William's wound youth
Popular passages
Page 67 - Be to her virtues very kind ; Be to her faults a little blind ; Let all her ways be unconfin'd ; And clap your padlock — on her mind.
Page 56 - She builds our quiet, as she forms our lives: Lays the rough paths of peevish Nature even; And opens in each heart a little Heaven.
Page 71 - Dear Thomas, did'st thou never pop Thy head into a tin-man's shop? There, Thomas, did'st thou never see ('Tis but by way of Simile !) A squirrel spend his little rage, In jumping round a rolling cage ? The cage, as either side...
Page 56 - Shadrach's zeal my glowing breast inspire, To weary tortures, and rejoice in fire; Or had I faith like that which Israel saw, When Moses gave them miracles and law...
Page 8 - tis his fancy to run, At night he declines on his Thetis's breast. " So, when I am wearied with wandering all day, To thee, my delight, in the evening I come; No matter what beauties I saw in my way, They were but my visits, but thou art my home ! " Then finish, dear Chloe, this pastoral war, And let us like Horace and Lydia agree ; For thou art a girl as much brighter than her, As he was a poet sublimer than me.
Page 68 - On his death-bed poor Lubin lies, His spouse is in despair ; With frequent sobs and mutual cries, They both express their care. " ' A different cause,' says Parson Sly, ' The same effect may give ; Poor Lubin fears that he shall die, His wife that he may live.
Page 24 - Serenely pleasant, calmly fair; Soft fell her words as flew the air. With secret joy I heard her say, That she would never miss one day A walk so fine, a sight so gay.
Page 20 - Andrew; and, for once, I will. — Be of your patron's mind, whate'er he says ; Sleep very much ; think little ; and talk less ; Mind neither good nor bad, nor right nor wrong, But eat your pudding, slave; and hold your tongue.
Page xxxiii - I shall have little stomach to eat ; I should therefore esteem it great favour and grace, Would you be so kind as to go in my place.
Page 155 - For while she makes her silk-worms beds, With all the tender things, I swear, Whilst all the house my passion reads, In papers round her baby's hair. She may receive and own my flame, For though the strictest prudes should know it, She'll pass for a most virtuous dame, And I for an unhappy poet.