Moral and political dialogues: being the substance of several conversations between divers eminent persons, with critical and explanatory notes by the editor [R. Hurd]. With letters on chivalry and romance by mr. Hurd

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Page 119 - Full little knowest thou that hast not tried, What hell it is, in suing long to bide: To lose good days, that might be better spent; To waste long nights in pensive discontent; To speed today, to be put back tomorrow; To feed on hope, to pine with fear and sorrow; To have thy prince's grace, yet want her peers...
Page 130 - 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 192 - I'll have Italian masks by night, Sweet speeches, comedies, and pleasing shows; And in the day, when he shall walk abroad, Like sylvan nymphs my pages shall be clad; My men, like satyrs grazing on the lawns, Shall with their goat-feet dance an antic hay.
Page 94 - Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head : And this our life, exempt from publick haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in ftones, and good in every thing.
Page 135 - 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 98 - Of" heav'nly reft this carneft to me lend, Let my life fleep, and learn to love her end. AND what if they, who have not the means of enjoying this...
Page 136 - To wash away the inherent dye : Long work perhaps may spoil thy colours quite; But never will reduce the native white. To all the ports of honour and of gain I often steer my course in vain : Thy gale comes cross, and drives me back again.
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 134 - 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: But think how likely 'tis that thou, With the dull work of thy unwieldy plough...
Page 130 - 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.

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