The Odyssey, tr. by A. Pope. To which is added, The battle of the frogs and mice

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Page 224 - 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.
Page 227 - With many a weary step, and many a groan, Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone; The huge round stone resulting with a bound, Thunders impetuous down, and smokes along the ground.
Page 334 - Jove fix'd it certain, that whatever day Makes man a slave takes half his worth away.
Page 241 - The silent fisher casts the insidious food, With fraudful care he waits the finny prize, And sudden lifts it quivering to the skies : So the foul monster lifts her prey on high, So pant the wretches struggling in the sky : In the wide dungeon she devours her food, And the flesh trembles while she churns the blood.
Page 95 - That high, through fields of air, his flight sustain, O'er the wide earth, and o'er the boundless main...
Page 256 - Heaven, and to their promise true ! But he, the power to whose all-seeing eyes The deeds of men appear without disguise, 'Tis his alone t' avenge the wrongs I bear : For still th' oppress'd are his peculiar care.
Page 314 - Such be the plea, and by the plea deceive : For Jove infatuates all, and all believe. Yet leave for each of us a sword to wield, A pointed javelin, and a fenceful shield. But by my blood that in thy bosom glows, By that regard a son his father owes ; The secret, that thy father lives, retain Lock'd in thy...
Page 197 - With dulcet beverage this the beaker crown'd, Fair in the midst, with gilded cups around: That in the tripod o'er the kindled pile The water pours; the bubbling waters boil; An ample vase receives the smoking wave; And, in the bath prepared, my limbs I lave: Reviving sweets repair the mind's decay, And take the painful sense of toil away.
Page 479 - I can af linn (however unequal all his imitations must be) that of the latter has been much more difficult. Whoever expects here the same pomp of verse, and the same ornaments of diction, as in the Iliad, he will, and he ought to be, disappointed. Were the original otherwise, it had been an offence against nature ; and were the translation so, it were an offence against Homer, which is the same thing.
Page 506 - Soon will the frogs' loquacious empire end. Let dreadful Pallas wing'd with pity fly, And make her aegis blaze before his eye : While Mars refulgent on his rattling car, Arrests his raging rival of the war. He ceas'd, reclining with attentive head, When thus the glorious god of combats said. Nor Pallas, Jove ! though Pallas take the field, With all the terrors of her hissing shield, Nor Mars himself, though Mars in armour bright...

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