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Page 296 - Far off from these a slow and silent stream, Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls Her watery labyrinth, whereof who drinks, Forthwith his former state and being forgets, Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain.
Page 268 - As for the dog, the furies, and their snakes, The gloomy caverns, and the burning lakes, And all the vain infernal trumpery, They neither are, nor were, nor e'er can be. But here on earth, the guilty have in view The mighty pains to. mighty mischiefs due; Racks, prisons, poisons, the Tarpeian Rock, Stripes, hangmen, pitch, and suffocating smoke; And last, and most, if these were cast behind, Th...
Page 277 - ... with hope, men favour the deceit; Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay: To-morrow's falser than the former day; Lies worse, and, while it says, we shall be blest With some new joys, cuts off what we possest.
Page 194 - A dungeon horrible, on all sides round, As one great furnace flamed; yet from those flames No light; but rather darkness visible Served only to discover sights of woe, Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace And rest can never dwell, hope never comes That comes to all, but torture without end Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed With ever-burning sulphur unconsumed.
Page 96 - The institution has, indeed, continued to our own time ; the garret is still the usual receptacle of the philosopher and poet ; but this, like many ancient customs, is perpetuated only by an accidental imitation, without knowledge of the original reason for which it was established.
Page 296 - Abhorred Styx, the flood of deadly hate; Sad Acheron, of sorrow, black and deep; Cocytus, named of lamentation loud Heard on the rueful stream; fierce Phlegethon, Whose waves of torrent fire inflame with rage.
Page 270 - Meantime, when thoughts of death disturb thy head, Consider, Ancus, great and good, is dead; Ancus, thy better far, was born to die, And thou, dost thou bewail mortality? So many monarchs with their mighty state, Who ruled the world, were overruled by fate.
Page 200 - The next, in place and punishment, are they Who prodigally throw their souls away; Fools, who, repining at their wretched state, And loathing anxious life, suborn'd their fate. With late repentance now they would retrieve The bodies they forsook, and wish to live; Their pains and poverty desire to bear, To view the light of heav'n, and breathe the vital air...
Page 200 - With late repentance now they would retrieve The bodies they forsook, and wish to live; Their pains and poverty desire to bear, To view the light of heav'n, and breathe the vital air : But fate forbids; the Stygian floods oppose, And with nine circling streams the captive souls inclose.
Page 134 - High as the Mother of the Gods in place, And proud, like her, of an immortal race. Then, when in pomp she makes the Phrygian round, With golden turrets on her temples crown'd; A hundred gods her sweeping train supply; Her offspring all, and all command the sky.