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5 페이지 - 20 With lucky words favour my destined urn; And, as he passes, turn, And bid fair peace be to my sable shroud. For we were nursed upon the self.same hill, Fed the same flock, by fountain, shade, and rill. 25 Together both, ere the high lawns appear'd under the opening eye-lids of the morn,
17 페이지 - He shook his mitred locks, and stern bespake : ' How well could I have spared for thee, young swain, Enow of such, as for their bellies' sake 115 Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold! Of other care they little reckoning make, Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast, And shove away the worthy bidden guest;
26 페이지 - That sing, and, singing, in their glory move, And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes. Now, Lycidas, the shepherds weep no more; Henceforth thou art the genius of the shore, In thy large recompense, and shalt be good 185 To all that wander in that perilous flood.
15 페이지 - The air was calm, and on the level brine Sleek Panope with all her sisters play'd. 100 It was that fatal and perfidious bark, Built in the eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark, That sunk so low that sacred head of thine. Next Camus, reverend sire, went footing slow, His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge,
18 페이지 - aught else the least That to the faithful herdsman's art belongs ! What recks it them? What need they? They are sped; And, when they list, their lean and flashy songs Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw,. 125 The hungry sheep look up, and are
12 페이지 - the blind Fury with the abhorred shears, And slits the thin-spun life. ' But not the praise ', Phoebus replied, and touch'd my trembling ears; 'Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil, Nor in the glistering foil
11 페이지 - not better done, as others use, To sport with Amaryllis in the shade, Or with the tangles of Nesera's hair? 70 Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise (That last infirmity of noble minds) To
20 페이지 - brooks, On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks; Throw hither all your quaint enamell'd eyes, 140 That on the green turf suck the honey'd showers, And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine,
27 페이지 - the tender stops of various quills, With eager thought warbling his Doric lay : 190 And now the sun had stretch'd out all the hills, And now was dropt into the western bay: At last he rose, and twitch'd his mantle blue: