Poems: Consisting Chiefly of Translations from the Asiatick Languages. To which are Added Two Essays; I. On the Poetry of the Eastern Nations. II. On the Arts, Commonly Called Imitative

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W. Bowyer and J. Nichols, 1777 - English poetry - 208 pages
 

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Page 57 - maid, if thou would'ft charm my fight, ^-^ And bid thefe arms thy neck infold; That rofy cheek, that lily hand, Would give thy poet more delight Than all Bocara's vaunted gold, Than all the gems of Samarcand.
Page 59 - charms impart ? Can cheeks, where living rofes blow, Where nature fpreads her richeft dyes, Require the borrow'd glofs of art ? Speak not of fate :—ah! change the theme, And talk of odours, talk of wine, Talk of the flowers that round us bloom
Page 181 - had annex''d thy breath ; But for his theft, in pride of all his growth, A vengeful canker eat him up to death. More
Page 60 - Egyptian dame Sigh'd for the blooming Hebrew boy j For her how fatal was the hour, When to the banks of Nilus came A youth fo lovely and fo coy ! But ah
Page 59 - change the theme, And talk of odours, talk of wine, Talk of the flowers that round us bloom : ' Fis all a cloud, 'tis all a dream; To love and joy thy thoughts confine, Nor hope to pierce the
Page 91 - And pleafure's rofy cup goes freely round. Here on the bank, which mantling vines o'erfhade, Be gay : too foon the flowers of Spring will fade. May this rude lay from age to age remain, A true memorial of this lovely train. Come, charming maid, and hear thy poet ring,
Page 85 - oft have heard my fadly-pleafing moan ; Behold me now a lifelefs marble grown. Ah ! lead me to the tomb where Laura lies ; Clouds, fold me round ; and, gather'd darknefs, rife ; Bear me, ye gales, in death's foft (lumber lay'd; And, ye bright realms, receive my fleeting
Page 102 - inviolably maintain the cuftoms of his family ; but had received one evening, as he walked in the fields, a pipe of an antique form from a Faun, or, as fome fay, from Oberon the Fairy, with a particular charge,
Page 77 - rocks, with verdant mofs o'ergrown, Form her rude diadem, and native throne ; There in a gloomy cave her waters fleep, Clear as a brook, but as an ocean deep. Yet, when the waking flowers of April blow, And warmer
Page 88 - The fparkling dewdrops o'er the lilies play, Like orient pearls, or like the beams of day. If love and mirth your wanton thoughts engage, Attend, ye nymphs! (a poet's words are fage). While thus you fit

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