The Works of Mr. James Thomson: With His Last Corrections and Improvements ... To which is Prefixed, the Life of the Author, Volumen 3


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Página 130 - When Britain first, at Heaven's command, Arose from out the azure main, This was the charter of the land, And guardian angels sung this strain: Rule, Britannia, rule the waves! Britons never will be slaves!
Página 130 - Still more majestic shalt thou rise, More dreadful from each foreign stroke; As the loud blast that tears the skies Serves but to root thy native oak.
Página 44 - Cast on the wildest of the Cyclad's isles, Where never human foot had marked the shore, These ruffians left me — yet believe me, Areas, Such is the rooted love we bear mankind, All ruffians as they were, I never heard A sound so dismal as their parting oars.
Página 139 - The death of those distinguish'd by their station, " But by their virtue more, awakes the mind " To solemn dread, and strikes a saddening awe: " Not that we grieve for them, but for ourselves, " Left to the toil of life — And yet the best " Are, by the playful children of this world, " At once forgot, as they had never been.
Página 217 - My holy scalp," turn whining monk myself, And pray incessant for the tyrant's safety.—— What ! How ! because an insolent invader, A sacrilegious tyrant, " in contempt " Of all those noblest rights, \vhich to maintain
Página 239 - He loved his friends with such a warmth of heart, So clear of interest, so devoid of art, Such generous friendship, such unshaken zeal ; No words can speak it, but our tears may tell.— O candid truth, O faith without a stain, O manners gently firm and nobly plain, O sympathising love of others' bliss ! Where will you find another breast like his ? Such was the Man.
Página 304 - As thou durst never ask ; a perfect union Of their whole nation with imperial Rome, In all her privileges, all her rights ; By the just gods, I will. — What would'st thou more ? Auf. What would I more, proud Roman ? This I would — Fire the cursed forest, where these Roman wolves Haunt and infest their nobler neighbours round them...
Página 210 - Ha! arrogant pretensions ! Heaven and earth! What ! arrogant pretensions to my wife ? My wedded wife! — Where are we? in a land Of civil rule, of liberty, and laws ? — Not, on my life, pursue them ! — Giddy prince ! My life disdains thy nod.
Página 239 - Not one immoral, one corrupted thought, One line which, dying, he could wish to blot.
Página 137 - Description dreams — nay, similes are gone. What shall we then ? to please you how devise, Whose judgment sits not in your ears and eyes ? Thrice happy could we catch great Shakespeare's art, To trace the deep recesses of the heart...

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