Moral and political dialogues: with letters on chivalry and romance: by the Reverend Doctor Hurd. In three volumes

printed for T. Cadell, 1776

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Page 137 - Ah ! wanton foe, dost thou upbraid The ills which thou thyself hast made ? When in the cradle innocent I lay, Thou, wicked spirit, stolest me away, And my abused soul didst bear Into thy new-found worlds, I know not where...
Page 136 - Leah left, thy recompence to be ! Go on: twice seven years more thy fortune try; Twice seven years more God in his bounty may Give thee, to fling away Into the court's deceitful lottery...
Page 94 - Where do we finer strokes and colours see Of the Creator's real poetry, Than when we with attention look Upon the third day's volume of the book...
Page 135 - For every tree and every herb around With pearly dew was crown'd, And upon all the quicken'd ground The fruitful seed of Heaven did brooding lie, And nothing but the Muse's fleece was dry.
Page 139 - His long misfortunes' fatal end ; " How cheerfully, and how exempt from fear, " On the Great Sovereign's will he did depend ; " I ought to be accurst, if I refuse " To wait on his, O thou fallacious Muse ! " Kings have long hands, they say; and, though I be " So distant, they may reach at length to me. " However, of all princes, thou ." Shouldst not reproach rewards for being small or " slow ; " Thou ! who rewardest but with popular breath,
Page 132 - A wondrous hieroglyphick robe she wore, In which all colours and all figures were, That nature or that fancy can create, That art can never imitate; And with loose pride it wanton'd in the air. In such a dress, in such a well-cloth'd dream, She us'd, of old, near fair Ismenus' stream, Pindar, her Theban favourite, to meet ; A crown was on her head, and wings were on her feet.
Page 133 - Art thou return'd here, to repent too late ? And gather hufks of learning up at laft, Now the rich harveft-time of life is paft, And winter marches on fo faft ? But, when I meant t...
Page 98 - Aglaiis, was labouring found, With his own hands, in his own little ground. So, gracious God ! (if it may lawful be, Among those foolish gods to mention thee) So let me act, on such a private stage, The last dull scenes of my declining age ; After long toils and voyages in vain, This quiet port let my toss'd vessel gain ; Of heavenly rest, this earnest to me lend, Let my life sleep, and learn to love her end.
Page 132 - s closed sight, (The Muses oft in lands of vision play) Body'd, array'd, and seen, by an internal light. A golden harp with silver strings she bore; A wondrous hieroglyphic robe she wore, In which all colours and all figures were, That nature or that fancy can create, That art can...
Page 136 - Twice seven years more God in his bounty may Give thee to fling away Into the court's deceitful lottery : But think how likely 'tis that thou, With the dull work of thy unwieldy plough...

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