The Iliad, tr. by mr. Pope. [With notes partly by W. Broome. Preceded by] An essay on ... Homer [by T. Parnell].

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Page 216 - ... no less the fearful than the brave, For lust of fame I should not vainly dare In fighting fields, nor urge thy soul to war. But since, alas ! ignoble age must come, Disease, and death's inexorable doom, The life, which others pay, let us bestow, And give to fame what we to nature owe ; Brave though we fall, and honour'd if we live, Or let us glory gain, or glory give...
Page 81 - Urge by their fathers' fame, their future praise. Forget we now our state and lofty birth ; Not titles here, but works, must prove our worth. To labour is the lot of man below ; And when Jove gave us life, he gave us woe.
Page 213 - So from each side increased the stony rain, And the white ruin rises o'er the plain. Thus godlike Hector and his troops contend To force the ramparts, and the gates to rend: Nor Troy...
Page 30 - Princes, all hail ! whatever brought you here, Or strong necessity, or urgent fear ; Welcome, though Greeks ! for not as foes ye came ; To me more dear than all that bear the name.
Page 197 - twixt the hills, or wander o'er the plain.= But this the gods in later times perform ; As yet the bulwark...
Page 25 - Pylos' sandy plain, Along the verdant margin of the main. There heifers graze, and labouring oxen toil; Bold are the men, and generous is the soil. There shalt thou reign, with power and justice crown'd, And rule the tributary realms around.
Page 84 - For strong necessity our toils demands, Claims all our hearts, and urges all our hands.
Page 210 - The leading sign, th' irrevocable nod, And happy thunders of the favouring god, These shall I slight? and guide my wavering mind By wandering birds, that flit with every wind? Ye vagrants of the sky! your wings extend, Or where the suns arise, or where descend ; 280 To right, to left, unheeded take your way, While I the dictates of high Heaven obey.
Page 166 - Ajax he shuns, through all the dire debate, And fears that arm whose force he felt so late. But partial Jove, espousing Hector's part...
Page 41 - Who yields ignobly, or who bravely dies. Of all my dangers, all my glorious pains, A life of labours, lo! what fruit remains? As the bold bird her helpless young attends.

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