An Essay on the Nature of the English Verse: With Directions for Reading Poetry

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J. Walter, 1799 - English language - 134 pages

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Page 49 - Though oft the ear the open vowels tire; While expletives their feeble aid do join; And ten low words oft creep in one dull line: While they ring round the same unvaried chimes With sure returns of still expected rhymes: Where'er you find "the cooling western breeze...
Page 124 - They looking back, all th' eastern side beheld Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, Wav'd over by that flaming brand, the gate With dreadful faces throng'd and fiery arms: Some natural tears they...
Page 38 - 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 9 - When God hath shower'd the earth ; so lovely seem'd That landscape ; and of pure, now purer air Meets his approach, and to the heart inspires Vernal delight and joy, able to drive All sadness but despair : now gentle gales, Fanning their odoriferous wings, dispense Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole Those balmy spoils.
Page 50 - The verfe intended to reprefent the whifper of the vernal breeze, muft be confeffed not much to excel in foftnefs or volubility : and the fmooth ftream runs with a perpetual clafh of jarring confonants. The noife and turbulence of the...
Page 49 - The hoarfe, rough verfe fhould like the torrent roar : When Ajax ftrives fome rock's vaft weight to throw, The line too labours, and the words move flow ; Not fo, when fwift Camilla fcours the plain, Flies o'er th' unbending corn, and fkirns along the main.
Page 17 - Thus when Philomela drooping Softly seeks her silent mate, See the bird of Juno stooping ; Melody resigns to fate.
Page 16 - FLUTTERING fpread thy purple pinions, Gentle Cupid, o'er my heart ; I a flave in thy dominions ; Nature muft give way to art.
Page 19 - ... tis his fancy to run, At night he declines on his Thetis's breast. So, when I am wearied with wandering all day, To thee, my delight, in the evening I come : No matter what beauties I saw in my way ; They were but my visits, but thou art my home ! Then finish, dear Chloe, this pastoral war, And let us like Horace and Lydia agree ; For thou art a girl as much brighter than her, As he was a poet sublimer than me.
Page 54 - Till the roofs all around The fhrill echoes rebound. While in more lengthen'd notes and flow The deep, majeftic, folemn organs blow. Hark the numbers foft and clear Gently fteal upon the ear; Now louder, and yet louder rife, And fill with fpreading founds the fkies.

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