The Iliad, tr. by mr. Pope. [With notes partly by W. Broome. Preceded by] An essay on ... Homer [by T. Parnell].

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Page 131 - And Troy's proud dames, whose garments sweep the ground, Attaint the lustre of my former name, Should Hector basely quit the field of fame ? My early youth was bred to martial pains, My soul impels me to th...
Page 183 - Hew'd the green forests, and the bodies bore. And now from forth the chambers of the main, To shed his sacred light on earth again, Arose the golden chariot of the day, 500 And tipp'd the mountains with a purple ray.
Page 133 - ... the whole in the utmost liveliness to his imagination. This alone might be a confutation of that false criticism some have fallen into, who affirm that a poet ought only to collect the great and noble particulars in his paintings. But it is in the images of things as in the characters of persons; where a small action or even a small circumstance of an action lets us more into the knowledge and comprehension of them than the material and principal parts themselves.
Page 102 - Sustain thy life, and human be thy birth, Bold as thou art, too prodigal of breath, Approach, and enter the dark gates of death." " What, or from whence I am, or who my sire, (Replied the chief,) can Tydeus...
Page 125 - Ilion's towery height, Beheld the war, and sicken'd at the sight; There her sad eyes in vain her lord explore, Or weep the wounds her bleeding country bore. But he who found not whom his soul...
Page 193 - Whose strong embrace holds heaven, and earth, and main : Strive all, of mortal and immortal birth, To drag, by this, the Thunderer down to earth : Ye strive in vain ! If I but stretch this hand...
Page 155 - Achaian name, Though bold, and burning with desire of fame, Content the doubtful honour might forego, So great the danger, and so brave the foe.
Page 101 - Yet far before the troops thou dar'st appear, And meet a lance the fiercest heroes fear. Unhappy they, and born of luckless sires, Who tempt our fury when Minerva fires! But if from heaven, celestial, thou descend, Know with immortals we no more contend. Not long Lycurgus view'd the golden light, That daring man who mix'd with gods in fight. Bacchus, and Bacchus...
Page 171 - Idasus' awful voice was heard. ' Forbear, my sons ! your further force to prove, Both dear to men, and both beloved of Jove. To either host your matchless worth is known, Each sounds your praise, and war is all your own. But now the night extends her awful shade; The goddess parts you : be the night obey'd.
Page 122 - Bore all, and Paris of those ills the worst. Helen at least a braver spouse might claim, Warm'd with some virtue, some regard of fame!

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