The Preceptor: Containing a General Course of Education Wherein the First Principles of Polite Learning are Laid Down in a Way Most Suitable for Trying the Genius, and Advancing the Instruction of Youth. In Twelve Parts. Illustrated with Maps and Useful Cuts ...

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J. Dodsley, 1783
 

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Page 70 - Oh, how wretched Is that poor Man that hangs on Princes Favours ! There is, betwixt that Smile which we afpire to, That fweet Regard of Princes, and our Ruin, More Pangs and Fears than War and Women know ; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again. Enter Cromwell, ftanding
Page 33 - Day without Night, Circle His Throne, rejoicing; ye in Heaven: On Earth join all ye Creatures to extol Him firft, Him laft, Him midft, and without End. Faireft of Stars ! laft in the Train of Night, If better thou belong not to the Dawn, Sure Pledge of Day, that crown'ft the fmiling
Page 66 - and Humility : But when the Blaft of War blows in our Ears, Then imitate the Action of the Tiger; Stiffen the Sinews, fummon up the Blood, Difguife fair Nature with hard-favour'd Rage; Then lend the Eye a terrible
Page 74 - Heav'n, I had rather coin my Heart, And drop my Blood for Drachmas, than to wring From the hard Hands of Peafants their vile Train, By any Indirection. I did fend To you for Gold to pay my Legions, Which
Page 33 - the orient Sun, now fly'ft With the fix'd Stars, fix'd in their Orb that flies ; And ye five other wand'ring Fires ! that move In myftic Dance not without Song, refound His Praife, who out of Darknefs call'd up Light« Air, and ye Elements ! the eldeft Birth Of Nature's Womb, that in Quaternion run Perpetual Circle multiform ; and mix, And
Page 33 - not without Song, refound His Praife, who out of Darknefs call'd up Light« Air, and ye Elements ! the eldeft Birth Of Nature's Womb, that in Quaternion run Perpetual Circle multiform ; and mix, And nouriih all Things : let your
Page 68 - No, my fair Coufin, If we are mark'd to die, we are enow To do our Country Lofs; and if to live, The fewer Men, the greater Share of Honour. God's Will ! I pray thee
Page 72 - I charge thee, fling away Ambition ; By that Sin fell the Angels ; how can Man then [The Image of his Maker) hope to win by
Page 71 - Muft I then leave you ? Muft I needs forego So good, fo noble, and fo true a Mafter ? Bear witnefs, all that have not Hearts of Iron, With what a Sorrow Cromwell leaves his Lord. The King
Page 33 - or grey, Till the Sun paint your fleecy Skirts with Gold, In Honour to the World's great Author rife : Whether to deck with Clouds th' uncolour'd Sky, Or wet the thirfty Earth with falling

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