The Pamphleteer, Volumen20

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Abraham John Valpy
A. J. Valpy., 1822

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Página 51 - Were with his heart, and that was far away; He reck'd not of the life he lost nor prize, But where his rude hut by the Danube lay, There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother— he, their sire, Butcher'd to make a Roman holiday— All this rush'd with his blood— Shall he expire And unavenged? Arise! ye Goths, and glut your ire!
Página 50 - tis, to cast one's eyes so low! The crows, and choughs, that wing the midway air, Show scarce so gross as beetles : Half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire; dreadful trade! Methinks, he seems no bigger than his head: The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, Appear like mice; and yon' tall anchoring bark, Diminish'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy Almost too small for sight: The murmuring surge. That on th...
Página 48 - First follow Nature, and your judgment frame By her just standard, which is still the same: Unerring Nature, still divinely bright, One clear, unchanged, and universal light, Life, force, and beauty, must to all impart, At once the source, and end, and test of Art. Art from that fund each just supply provides; Works without show, and without pomp presides: In some fair body thus th...
Página 19 - When the broken arches are black in night, And each shafted oriel glimmers white; When the cold light's uncertain shower Streams on the ruined central tower; When buttress and buttress, alternately, Seem framed of ebon and ivory...
Página 7 - Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views At evening from the top of Fesole Or in Valdarno to descry new lands, .Rivers or mountains in her spotty globe; His spear, to equal which the tallest pine Hewn on Norwegian hills to be the mast Of some great ammiral, were but a wand.
Página 21 - I am now to examine Paradise Lost, a poem which, considered with respect to design, may claim the first place, and with respect to performance, the second, among the productions of the human mind.
Página 51 - He heard it, but he heeded not ; his eyes Were with his heart, and that was far away : He recked not of the life he lost nor prize, But where his rude hut by the Danube lay ; There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother — he, their sire, Butchered to make a Roman holiday.
Página 20 - twixt south and southwest side; On either which he would dispute, Confute, change hands, and still confute. He'd undertake to prove by force Of argument, a man's no horse; He'd prove a buzzard is no fowl, And that a lord may be an owl; A calf an alderman, a goose a justice, And rooks committee-men and trustees. He'd run in debt by disputation, And pay with ratiocination. All this by syllogism, true In mood and figure, he would do.
Página 78 - I do declare, that I do not believe that the Pope of Rome, or any other foreign prince, prelate, person, state, or potentate, hath or ought to have any temporal or civil jurisdiction, power, superiority or pre-eminence, directly or indirectly, within this realm.

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