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Achilles Ăneas Agamemnon Ajax arms Atreus Atrides bands beauteous behold bend beneath blood bold brave brazen breast chariot chief combat command coursers crown'd daring dart descends Diomed dire divine dreadful E'en Epeians Eurypylus eyes fair falchion fall fame fate fear field fierce fight fire fix'd flames fleet force fury glory goddess godlike gods gore grace Grecian Greece Greeks ground hand haste hear heart Heaven heavenly Hector heroes Homer honours host Idomeneus Iliad Ilion's immortal javelin Jove king lance Lycian maid martial mighty monarch Nestor night numbers o'er Pallas Pandarus pass'd Patroclus Phrygian plain press'd Priam's prince prize proud Pylian race rage sacred shade shield shining ships shore Simo´s sire skies slain soul spear spoke stand steeds stern Sthenelus stood swift tent thee thou throne thunder toils trembling Trojan troops Troy Troy's Tydeus Tydides Ulysses Virgil walls warrior woes wound youth
Page 3 - It is to the strength of this amazing invention we are to attribute that unequalled fire and rapture which is so forcible in Homer, that no man of a true poetical spirit is master of himself while he reads him.
Page 166 - Trojans, to defend the crown, Against his country's foes the war to wage, And rise the Hector of the future age ! So when triumphant from successful toils Of heroes slain he bears the reeking spoils, Whole hosts may hail him with deserved acclaim, And say, " This chief transcends his father's fame While pleased, amidst the general shouts of Troy, His mother's conscious heart o'erflows with joy.
Page 22 - Declare, O Muse ! in what ill-fated hour Sprung the fierce strife ; from what offended power? Latona's son a dire contagion spread, And heap'd the camp with mountains of the dead; The king of men his reverend priest defied And for the king's offence the people died.
Page 229 - Yet hear one word, and lodge it in thy heart: No more molest me on Atrides' part. Is it for him these tears are taught to flow, For him these sorrows ? for my mortal foe ? A generous friendship no cold medium knows, Burns with one love, with one resentment glows : One should our interests and our passions be ; My friend must hate the man that injures me.
Page 274 - A wise physician, skill'd our wounds to heal, Is more than armies to the public weal.
Page 38 - The sire of gods, and all th' ethereal train, On the warm limits of the farthest main, Now mix with mortals, nor disdain to grace The feasts of Ethiopia's blameless race ; Twelve days the powers indulge the genial rite, Returning with the twelfth revolving light. Then will I mount the brazen dome, and move The high tribunal of immortal Jove.
Page 166 - Thus having spoke, the illustrious chief of Troy Stretch'd his fond arms to clasp the lovely boy. The babe clung crying to his nurse's breast, Scared at the dazzling helm and nodding crest.
Page 15 - ... commendations as he may gain by that character of style, which his friends must agree together to call simplicity, and the rest of the world will call dulness. There is a graceful and dignified simplicity, as well as a bald and sordid one, which differ as much...
Page 188 - The gates unfolding pour forth all their train ; Squadrons on squadrons cloud the dusky plain : Men, steeds, and chariots shake the trembling ground : The tumult thickens, and the skies resound. And now with shouts the shocking armies closed, To lances, lances, shields to shields opposed ; Host against host with shadowy legions drew, The sounding darts in iron tempests flew ; Victors and vanquish'd join promiscuous cries, Triumphant shouts and dying groans arise : With streaming blood the slippery...
Page 4 - ... not enough to have taken in the whole circle of arts, and the whole compass of Nature, to supply his maxims and reflections ; all the inward passions and affections of mankind, to furnish his characters ; and all the outward forms and images of things for his descriptions; but wanting yet an ampler sphere to expatiate in, he opened a new and boundless walk for his imagination, and created a world for himself in the invention of Fable. That which Aristotle calls the soul of poetry, was first breathed...