The Works of the English Poets: Pope's Homer

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Seite 131 - Fill the wide circle of th' eternal year: Stern winter smiles on that auspicious clime : The fields are florid with unfading prime: From the bleak pole no winds inclement blow, Mould the round hail, or flake the fleecy snow; But from the breezy deep the blest inhale The fragrant murmurs of the western gale.
Seite 147 - Now sailing smooth the level surface sweep, Now dip their pinions in the briny deep. Thus o'er the world of waters Hermes flew, Till now the distant island rose in view ; Then, swift ascending from the azure wave, He took the path that winded to the cave.
Seite 155 - The nymph just show'd him, and with tears withdrew. Now toils the hero : trees on trees o'erthrown Fall crackling round him, and the forests groan : Sudden, full twenty on the plain are strow'd, And lopp'd and lighten'd of their branchy load.
Seite 310 - Nor the fleet arrow from the twanging bow, Sent with full force, could reach the depth below. Wide to the west the horrid gulf extends, And the dire passage down to hell descends. O fly the dreadful sight!
Seite 294 - O woman, woman, when to ill thy mind Is bent, all hell contains no fouler fiend...
Seite 205 - And a full goblet foams with generous wines: His food a herald bore: and now they fed; And now the rage of craving hunger fled. Then, fir'd by all the Muse, aloud he sings The mighty deeds of demigods and kings...
Seite 190 - ... pomegranate glows, The branch here bends beneath the weighty pear, And verdant olives flourish round the year. The balmy spirit of the western gale Eternal breathes on fruits untaught to fail : Each dropping pear a following pear supplies, On apples apples, figs on figs arise : The same mild season gives the blooms to blow, The buds to harden, and the fruits to grow.
Seite 297 - Talk not of ruling in this dolorous gloom, Nor think vain words (he cried) can ease my doom. Rather I'd choose laboriously to bear A weight of woes, and breathe the vital air, A slave to some poor hind that toils for bread, Than reign the sceptred monarch of the dead.
Seite 165 - Thus spent already, how shall nature bear The dews descending, and nocturnal air; Or chilly vapours breathing from the flood When morning rises? — If...
Seite 243 - The brethren cried, and instant strode away. " Joy touch'd my secret soul and conscious heart, Pleased with the effect of conduct and of art. Meantime the Cyclop, raging with his wound, Spreads his wide arms, and searches round and round : At last, the stone removing from the gate...

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