Pleasures, Objects, and Advantages of Literature

الغلاف الأمامي
T. Bosworth, 1851 - 301 من الصفحات
 

ما يقوله الناس - كتابة مراجعة

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الصفحة 163 - Pelops' line, Or the tale of Troy divine ; Or what (though rare) of later age Ennobled hath the buskin'd stage. But O, sad virgin, that thy power Might raise Musaeus from his bower ? Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing Such notes as, warbled to the string, Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, And made Hell grant what love did seek.
الصفحة 6 - Where a new world leaps out at his command, And ready nature waits upon his hand ; When the ripe colours...
الصفحة 41 - Met such imbodied force, as nam'd with these Could merit more than that small infantry Warr'd on by cranes ; though all the giant brood Of Phlegra with th...
الصفحة 159 - Youth! for years so many and sweet, 'Tis known that Thou and I were one, I'll think it but a fond conceit— It cannot be that Thou art gone!
الصفحة 47 - The abilities of man must fall short on one side or other, like too scanty a blanket when you are a-bed, if you pull it upon your shoulders you leave your feet bare; if you thrust it down upon your feet, your shoulders are uncovered.
الصفحة 159 - Tis known that Thou and I were one, I'll think it but a fond conceit— It cannot be that Thou art gone! Thy vesper-bell hath not yet toll'd:— And thou wert aye a masker bold! What strange disguise hast now put on, To make believe that thou art gone?
الصفحة 175 - I took as much delight in reading as you do ; it would be the means of alleviating many tedious hours in my present retirement. But, to my misfortune, I derive no pleasure from such pursuits.
الصفحة 154 - Eftsoones they heard a most melodious sound, Of all that mote delight a dainty ear, Such as at once might not on living ground, Save in this paradise, be heard elsewhere : Right hard it was for wight which did it hear To read what manner music that mote be; For all that pleasing is to living ear Was there consorted in one harmony; Birds, voices, instruments, winds, waters, all agree.
الصفحة 252 - Paint me an angel, with wings and a trumpet, to trumpet my name over the world.
الصفحة 126 - For gain, not glory, wing'd his roving flight, And grew immortal in his own despite.

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