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The Rhapsodist, Or, Mes Souvenirs: In an Epistle to Aristus
Richard Esmond Comerford
Affichage du livre entier - 1817
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Page 65 - Memory and her siren daughters ; but by devout prayer to that Eternal Spirit who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his seraphim with the hallowed fire of his altar to touch and purify the lips of whom He pleases.
Page 5 - HIIMANO capiti cervicem pictor equinam Jungere si velit, et varias inducere plumas Undique collatis membris, ut turpiter atrum Desinat in piscem mulier formosa superne, Spectatum admissi risum teneatis, amici...
Page 61 - ... methinks I see her as an eagle mewing her mighty youth, and kindling her undazzled eyes at the full midday beam ; purging and unsealing her long-abused sight at the fountain itself of heavenly radiance; while the whole noise of timorous and flocking birds, with those also that love the twilight, flutter about, amazed at what she means, and in their envious gabble would prognosticate a year of sects and schisms.
Page 59 - Slaves cannot breathe in England ; if their lungs Receive our air, that moment they are free; They touch our country, and their shackles fall.
Page 54 - Deus, ecce, deus!' Cui talia fanti ante fores subito non vultus, non color unus, non comptae mansere comae; sed pectus anhelum, et rabie fera corda tument; maiorque videri nec mortale sonans, afflata est numine quando 50 iam propiore dei. 'Cessas in vota precesque, Tros
Page 55 - Cum tot sustineas et tanta negotia solus, Res Italas armis tuteris, moribus ornes, Legibus emendes, in publica commoda peccem. Si longo sermone morer tua tempora, Caesar.
Page 59 - And this spirit of liberty is so deeply implanted in our constitution, and rooted even in our very soil, that a slave or a negro, the moment he lands in England, falls under the protection of the laws, and so far becomes a freeman (g) ; though the master's right to his service may possibly still continue (6), (7).
Page 83 - When the bookseller offered Milton five pounds for his Paradise Lost, he did not reject it and commit his poem to the flames, nor did he accept the miserable pittance as the reward of his labor. He knew that the real price of his work was immortality, and that posterity would pay it.