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appear arms arts bear blessing blood bold born brave bring cause church common crimes crowd crown David's divine Dryden e'en English ev'ry eyes face fair faith fall fame fate father fear fight fire foes force gain give grace ground grow hand happy haste head heart Heav'n honour hope human kind king land laws least leave less light live look Lord lost means mighty mind monarch Muse Nature needful never o'er once pain peace plain Poem pow'r praise prince reason reign rest rich rise royal rule sacred secure sense sent shore side soon soul sound stand subjects success sure things thou thought throne trade true truth turns virtue Volume wind write
Page 113 - Think, O think it worth enjoying! Lovely Thais sits beside thee, Take the good the gods provide thee!
Page 113 - And unburied remain Inglorious on the plain: Give the vengeance due To the valiant crew! Behold how they toss their torches on high, How they point to the Persian abodes And glittering temples of their hostile gods.
Page 110 - The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung : Of Bacchus ever fair and ever young : The jolly god in triumph comes ! Sound the trumpets, beat the...
Page 113 - Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure: Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain. Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain; Fought all his battles o'er again, And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain!
Page 32 - Timotheus' varied lays surprise, And bid alternate passions fall and rise! While at each change the son of Libyan Jove Now burns with glory, and then melts with love; Now his fierce eyes with sparkling fury glow, Now sighs steal out, and tears begin to flow: Persians and Greeks like turns of nature found, And the world's victor stood subdued by sound ! The power of music all our hearts allow, And what Timotheus was, is DRYDEN now.
Page 177 - That every man, with him, was god or devil. In squandering wealth was his peculiar art: Nothing went unrewarded, but desert. Beggar'd by fools, whom still he found too late: He had his jest, and they had his estate.
Page 115 - Dim as the borrow'd beams of moon and stars To lonely, weary, wandering travellers, Is reason to the soul: and as on high, Those rolling fires discover but the sky, Not light us here; so reason's glimmering ray Was lent, not to assure our doubtful way, But guide us upward to a better day. And as those nightly tapers disappear When day's bright lord ascends our hemisphere; So pale grows reason at religion's sight; So dies, and so dissolves in supernatural light.
Page 177 - In the first rank of these did Zimri ' stand, A man so various that he seemed to be Not one, but all mankind's epitome : Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong, Was everything by starts and nothing long ; But in the course of one revolving moon Was...