The Works of the English Poets: Dryden

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Pàgina 219 - Behold a ghaftly band, Each a torch in his hand! Thofe are Grecian ghofts, that in battle were (lain, And unbury'd remain Inglorious on the plain : Give the vengeance due To the valiant crew. Behold how they tofs their torches on high, How they point to the Perfian abodes, And glittering temples of their
Pàgina 220 - Enlarg'd the former narrow bounds, And added length to folemn founds, With nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before. Let old Timotheus yield the prize, Or both divide the crown ; He rais'da mortal to the fkies j She drew an angel down. Grand CHORUS. At
Pàgina 215 - The fong began from Jove, Who left his blifsful feats above, (Such is the power of mighty love.) A dragon's fiery form bely'd the god: Sublime on radiant fpires he rode, When he to fair Olympia prefs'd : And while he fought her fnowy breaft : Then, round her {lender waift he curl'd, And ftamp'd an image of himfelf, a
Pàgina 197 - 1 HREE Poets, in three diftant ages born, Greece, Italy, and England did adorn. The firft, in loftinefs of thought furpafs'd; The next, in majefty ; in both the laft. The force of nature could no further go ; To make a third,
Pàgina 214 - The lovely Thais, by his fide, Sate like a blooming Eaftern bride In flower of youth and beauty's pride. Happy, happy, happy pair ! None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave deferves the fair. CHORUS.
Pàgina 216 - The mafter faw the madnefs rife; His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes ; And while he heaven and earth defy'd, Chang'd his hand, and check'd his pride. He chofe a mournful Mufe Soft pity to infufe : He fung Darius great and good, By too fevere a fate, Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen, Fallen from his high eftate, And wejtring in his blood;
Pàgina 216 - the hautboys breath ; he comes, he comes. Bacchus, ever fair and young, Drinking joys did firft ordain ; Bacchus' bleffings are a treafure, Drinking is the foldier's pleafure ; Rich the treafure, Sweet the pleafure, Sweet is pleafure after pain. CHORUS. Bacchus
Pàgina 215 - III. The praife of Bacchus then, the fweet mufician fung ; Of Bacchus ever fair and ever young : The jolly god in triumph comes; Sound the trumpets ; beat the drums ; Flufti'd with a purple grace He
Pàgina 216 - is pleafure after pain. IV. Sooth'd with the found, the king grew vain ; Fought all his battles o'er again ; And thrice he routed all his foes; and thrice he flew the (lain. The
Pàgina 112 - and future heroes bred ; Where unfledg'd aftors learn to laugh and cry, Where infant punks their tender voices try, And little Maximins the gods defy. Great Fletcher never treads in bufkins here, Nor greater Jonfon dares in focks appear j But gentle Simkin juft reception finds Amidft this monument of

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