The Iliad of Homer, Volumen6

T. Osbourne, 1760

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Página 25 - And ye shall overthrow their altars, and break their pillars, and burn their groves with fire; and ye shall hew down the graven images of their gods, and destroy the names of them out of that place.
Página 164 - Lo! the sad father, frantic with his pain, Around him furious drives his menial train: In vain each slave with duteous care attends, Each office hurts him, and each face offends. "What make ye here, officious crowds!
Página 116 - Mash all his bones, and all his body pound: So let his friends be nigh, a needful train, To heave the batter'd carcase off the plain.
Página 46 - Grief tears his heart, and drives him to and fro, In all the raging impotence of woe. At length he roll'd in dust, and thus begun, Imploring all, and naming one by one: 'Ah!
Página 161 - Alone, for so he wills: no Trojan near, Except, to place the dead with decent care, Some aged herald, who with gentle hand May the slow mules and funeral car command.
Página 53 - Some stranger ploughs his patrimonial field. The day, that to the shades the father sends, Robs the sad orphan of his father's friends: He, wretched outcast of mankind!
Página 181 - And, as the crime, I dread the consequence. Thee, far as Argos, pleas'd I could convey ; . Guard of thy life, and partner of thy way : On thee 'attend, thy safety to maintain, O'er pathless forests, or the roaring main.
Página 178 - To watch this quarter, my adventure falls: For with the morn the Greeks attack your walls; Sleepless they sit, impatient to engage, And scarce their rulers check their martial rage.' 'If then thou art of stern Pelides" train, (The mournful monarch thus rejoin'd again,) Ah, tell me truly, where, oh!
Página 214 - I am sure, seriously rejoices with me at the period of my labours. To him, therefore, having brought this long work to a conclusion, I desire to dedicate it, and to have the honour and satisfaction of placing together in this manner the names of Mr. Congreve and of — A. Pope.
Página 188 - For him through hostile camps I bent my way, For him thus prostrate at thy feet I lay; Large gifts proportion'd to thy wrath I bear; O hear the wretched, and the gods revere ! ' Think of thy father, and this face behold...

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