The Modern British Drama: In Five Volumes, Том 2

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William Miller, 1811
 

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Стр. 580 - Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Jest and youthful Jollity, Quips, and Cranks, and wanton Wiles, Nods, and Becks, and wreathed Smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek ; Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come, and trip it as ye go, On the light fantastic toe...
Стр. 580 - Hence, loathed Melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born In Stygian cave forlorn 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy ! Find out some uncouth cell, Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings, And the night-raven sings ; There, under ebon shades and low-browed rocks, As ragged as thy locks, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.
Стр. 583 - Yet should I try, the uncontrolled worth Of this pure cause would kindle my rapt spirits To such a flame of sacred vehemence...
Стр. 579 - I was all ear, !(« And took in strains that might create a soul Under the ribs of Death.
Стр. 584 - Mortals, that would follow me, Love Virtue ; she alone is free. She can teach ye how to climb Higher than the sphery chime; Or, if Virtue feeble were, Heaven itself would stoop to her.
Стр. 576 - He that has light within his own clear breast, May sit i' th' centre, and enjoy bright day : But he that hides a dark soul, and foul thoughts, Benighted walks under the mid-day sun ; Himself is his own dungeon.
Стр. 576 - Be it not done in pride, or in presumption. Some say no evil thing that walks by night, In fog, or fire, by lake, or moorish fen, Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost, That breaks his magic chains at curfew time, No goblin, or swart faery of the mine, Hath hurtful power o'er true virginity.
Стр. 574 - Sure something holy lodges in that breast, And with these raptures moves the vocal air To testify his hidden residence; How sweetly did they float upon the wings Of silence, through the empty-vaulted night At every fall smoothing the raven down Of Darkness till it smiled...
Стр. 582 - Wherefore did Nature pour her bounties forth With such a full and unwithdrawing hand, Covering the earth with odours, fruits and flocks, Thronging the seas with spawn innumerable, But all to please, and sate the curious taste...
Стр. 584 - To the ocean now I fly, And those happy climes that lie Where day never shuts his eye, Up in the broad fields of the sky. There I suck the liquid air, All amidst the gardens fair Of Hesperus, and his daughters three That sing about the golden tree.

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