The Iliad: Of Homer. Translated by Mr. Pope. ...

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John Halpen, John Rice, and Ann Colles, 1791

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Page 117 - Of this distress, and sorrow'd in thy flight: It fits us now a noble stand to make, And here, as brothers, equal fates partake.
Page 52 - Shall lay this dreadful hero in the dust, Let then the furies of that arm be known, Secure no Grecian force transcends thy own.' With that, he left him wondering as he lay, Then from Achilles...
Page 123 - High o'er the slain the great Achilles stands, Begirt with heroes and surrounding bands; And thus aloud, while all the host attends: Princes and leaders! countrymen and friends! Since now at length the powerful will of Heaven The dire destroyer to our arm has given, Is not Troy fall'n already?
Page 105 - So they, while down their cheeks the torrents roll, But fix'd remains the purpose of his soul: Resolved he stands, and with a fiery glance Expects the hero's terrible advance. So roll'd up in his den, the swelling snake...
Page 24 - Forg'd on th' eternal anvils of the God. Grief and revenge his furious heart inspire. His glowing eye-balls roll with living fire ; He grinds his teeth, and furious with delay O'erlooks th' embattled host, and hopes the bloody day.
Page 120 - Ah, leave me not for Grecian dogs to tear ! The common rites of sepulture bestow, To soothe a father's and a mother's woe; 430 Let their large gifts procure an urn at least, And Hector's ashes in his country rest.
Page 19 - Jove ! And mother-earth, and heaven's revolving light, And ye, fell furies of the realms of night, Who rule the dead, and horrid woes prepare For perjur'd kings, and all who falsely swear! The black-ey'd maid inviolate removes, Pure and unconscious of my manly loves. If this be false, heaven all its vengeance shed, And levell'd thunder strike my guilty head...
Page 223 - ... father's silver hairs, His son, his mother! urge him to bestow Whatever pity that stern heart can know.
Page 23 - For Peleus breathes no more the vital air; Or drags a wretched life of age and care, But till the news of my sad fate invades His hastening' soul, and sinks him, to the shades.
Page 70 - On him Achilles rush'd; he fearless stood, And shook two spears, advancing from the flood; The flood impell'd him, on Pelides' head To avenge his waters choked with heaps of dead.

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