The Miscellaneous Works of Joseph Addison, Bind 1D. A. Talboys, 1840 |
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Side xix
... Æneid ....... The Campaign , a poem Prologue to the Tender Husband Epilogue to the British Enchantress . Prologue to Phædra and Hippolytus . Page 3 5 17 33 36 42 51 59 77 79 81 83 91 Horace , Ode III . Book III .... Translation from ...
... Æneid ....... The Campaign , a poem Prologue to the Tender Husband Epilogue to the British Enchantress . Prologue to Phædra and Hippolytus . Page 3 5 17 33 36 42 51 59 77 79 81 83 91 Horace , Ode III . Book III .... Translation from ...
Side 51
Joseph Addison. MILTON'S STYLE IMITATED , IN A TRANSLATION OF A STORY OUT OF THE THIRD ÆNEID . ' MILTON'S STYLE IMITATED , IN A TRANSLATION OF A.
Joseph Addison. MILTON'S STYLE IMITATED , IN A TRANSLATION OF A STORY OUT OF THE THIRD ÆNEID . ' MILTON'S STYLE IMITATED , IN A TRANSLATION OF A.
Side 53
... ÆNEID . LOST in the gloomy horror of the night We struck upon the coast where Ætna lies , Horrid and waste , its entrails fraught with fire , That now casts out dark fumes and pitchy clouds , Vast showers of ashes hov'ring in the smoke ...
... ÆNEID . LOST in the gloomy horror of the night We struck upon the coast where Ætna lies , Horrid and waste , its entrails fraught with fire , That now casts out dark fumes and pitchy clouds , Vast showers of ashes hov'ring in the smoke ...
Side 175
... Iræ , Tela secunda vocant superi.- P. 139. 1. 22. " ' Tis well , " says she , etc. Virgil has made a Beroë of one of his goddesses in the fifth Æneid ; but if we compare the speech she there makes with that of her NOTES . 175.
... Iræ , Tela secunda vocant superi.- P. 139. 1. 22. " ' Tis well , " says she , etc. Virgil has made a Beroë of one of his goddesses in the fifth Æneid ; but if we compare the speech she there makes with that of her NOTES . 175.
Side 235
... Æneid , where we see the representation of Rage bound up , and chained in the temple of Janus : -Furor impius intus Sæva sedens super arma , et centum vinctus ahenis Post tergum nodis , fremit horridus ore cruento . Though we are much ...
... Æneid , where we see the representation of Rage bound up , and chained in the temple of Janus : -Furor impius intus Sæva sedens super arma , et centum vinctus ahenis Post tergum nodis , fremit horridus ore cruento . Though we are much ...
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Addison Æneid æther amidst appear arms atque beauties bees behold blood breast bright Britannia's British Cadmus chariot charms circum cloth lettered cries CYCNUS death divine earth Edition English ev'ry eyes Fain fate fcap fear fields fight fire fix'd flames flow'ry foolscap foolscap 8vo fury Gaul Georgic give goddess Godfrey Kneller gods grace Greek Greek Language heat heaven hero Hesiod hive honour immortal J. C. LOUDON JOHN FAREY join'd Jove kindled labours Latin light limbs look lord lord Halifax maid Metamorphoses mighty moral mountains muse nature neighb'ring numbers nunc nymph o'er Ovid Ovid's Metamorphoses Pentheus Phaeton pleas'd poem poet poetry praise Quæ rage rais'd reader rise round shade shining shore sight skies sound steeds stood story streams tell thee thou thought thunder Tiresias toils tow'ring trembling turns verse view'd Virgil voice Whilst whole winds woods youth
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Side xii - He might well rejoice at the death of that which he could not have killed. Every reader of every party, since personal malice is past and the papers which once inflamed the nation are read only as effusions of wit, must wish for more of the Whig Examiners ; for on no occasion was the genius of Addison more vigorously exerted, and on none did the superiority of his powers more evidently appear.
Side 46 - For wheresoe'er I turn my ravish'd eyes, gay gilded scenes and shining prospects rise, poetic fields encompass me around, and still I seem to tread on classic ground; for here the Muse so oft her harp has strung, that not a mountain rears its head unsung, renown'd in verse each shady thicket grows, and every stream in heavenly numbers flows.
Side 37 - I'll try to make their several beauties known, And show their verses worth tho' not my own. .Long had our dull forefathers slept supine, Nor felt the raptures of the tuneful Nine, Till Chaucer first, a merry bard, arose, And many a story told in rhyme and prose. But age has rusted what the poet writ, Worn out his language, and obscured his wit; In vain he jests in his unpolished strain, And tries to make his readers laugh in vain.