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

Framsida
Ellerton and Byworth, 1807
 

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Sida 69 - Fill the wide circle of the eternal year : Stern winter smiles on that auspicious clime : The fields are florid with unfading prime ; From the bleak pole no winds inclement blow, Mould the round hail, or flake the fleecy snow ; But from the breezy deep the blest inhale The fragrant murmurs of the western gale.
Sida 5 - Wand'ring from clime to clime, observant stray'd, Their manners noted, and their states survey'd. On stormy seas unnumber'd toils he bore, Safe with his friends to gain his natal shore: Vain toils!
Sida 112 - Four acres was the allotted space of ground, Fenced with a green enclosure all around. Tall thriving trees confess'd the fruitful mould : The reddening apple ripens here to gold. Here the blue fig with luscious juice o'erflows, With deeper red the full pomegranate glows : The branch here bends beneath the weighty pear, And verdant olives flourish round the year.
Sida 198 - 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.
Sida 204 - Nigh the cursed shore, and listen to the lay. No more that wretch shall view the joys of life, His blooming offspring, or his beauteous wife ! In verdant meads they sport ; and wide around Lie human bones, that whiten all the ground : The ground polluted floats with human gore, And human carnage taints the dreadful shore.
Sida 86 - And form a raft and build the rising ship, Sublime to bear thee o'er the gloomy deep. To store the vessel let the care be mine, With water from the rock, and rosy wine, And life-sustaining bread, and fair array, And prosperous gales to waft thee on the way.
Sida 36 - Not added years on years my task could close, The long historian of my country's woes; Back to thy native islands might'st thou sail, And leave half-heard the melancholy tale. Nine painful years on that detested shore; What stratagems we form'd, what toils we bore! Still labouring on, till scarce at last we found Great Jove propitious, and our conquest crown'd.
Sida 171 - The table in fair order spread, They heap the glittering canisters with bread: Viands of various kinds allure the taste, Of choicest sort and savour, rich repast!
Sida 82 - The god who mounts the winged winds Fast to his feet the golden pinions binds, That high through fields of air his flight sustain O'er the wide earth, and o'er the boundless main. He grasps the wand that causes sleep to fly, Or in soft...
Sida 58 - Temper'd with drugs of sovereign use, to assuage The boiling bosom of tumultuous rage ; To clear the cloudy front of wrinkled Care, And dry the tearful sluices of Despair : Charm'd with that virtuous draught, the...

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