Dryden's Palamon and Arcite

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D. Appleton, 1900 - 112 pages
 

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Page 18 - ... occasion to complain of them, who because they understand Chaucer, would deprive the greater part of their countrymen of the same advantage, and hoard him up, as misers do their grandam gold, only to look on it themselves, and hinder others from making use of it. In sum, I seriously protest, that no man ever had, or can have, a greater veneration for Chaucer than myself. I have translated some part of his works, only that I might perpetuate his memory, or at least refresh it, amongst my countrymen.
Page 18 - Arcite, which is of the epic kind, and perhaps not much inferior to the Ilias or the JEneis: the story is more pleasing than either of them, the manners as perfect, the diction as poetical, the learning as deep and various, and the disposition full as artful : only it includes a greater length of time, as taking up seven years at least...
Page 18 - Gower, his contemporaries : there is the rude sweetness of a Scotch tune in it, which is natural and pleasing, though not perfect.
Page 96 - Since every man who lives, is born to die, And none can boast sincere felicity ; With equal mind, what happens let us bear, Nor joy nor grieve too much for things beyond our care. Like pilgrims, to the appointed place we tend; The world's an inn, and death the journey's end.
Page 93 - Fate could not choose a more malicious hour! What greater curse could envious Fortune give, Than just to die, when I began to live! Vain men, how vanishing a bliss we crave, Now warm in love, now withering in the grave! Never, O never more to see the sun!
Page 102 - Take what he gives, since to rebel is vain : The bad grows better, which we well sustain ; And could we choose the time, and choose aright, Tis best to die, our honour at the height, When we have done our ancestors no shame, But served our friends, and well secured our fame.
Page 95 - Yet could he not his closing eyes withdraw, Though less and less of Emily he saw ; So, speechless, for a little space he lay ; Then grasped the hand he held, and sighed his soul away.
Page 55 - But since thou art my kinsman, and a knight, Here, have my faith, tomorrow, in this grove, Our arms shall plead the titles of our love : And Heaven...
Page 35 - But held the rank of sovereign queen before; Till, thanks to giddy chance, which never bears, That mortal bliss should last for length of years, She cast us headlong from our high estate, And here in hope of thy return we wait: And long have waited in the temple nigh, Built to the gracious goddess Clemency. But reverence thou the Power whose name it bears, Relieve the oppress'd, and wipe the widow's tears.
Page 75 - Alas! I have not words to tell my grief; To vent my sorrow would be some relief; Light sufferings give us leisure to complain; We groan, but cannot speak, in greater pain.

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