The second book of Dryden's Æneid of Virgil, with notes [&c.] ed. by W. McLeod

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Page 63 - This said, his feeble hand a javelin threw, Which, fluttering, seemed to loiter as it flew: Just, and but barely, to the mark it held, And faintly tinkled on the brazen shield. Then Pyrrhus thus: 'Go thou from me to Fate, And to my father my foul deeds relate: Now die!
Page 27 - Their flaming crests above the waves they show; Their bellies seem to burn the seas below; Their speckled tails advance to steer their course, And on the sounding shore the flying billows force. And now the strand, and now the plain they held. Their ardent eyes with bloody streaks were filled ; Their nimble tongues they brandished as they came And licked their hissing jaws, that sputtered flame.
Page xxx - While ours defend, and while the Greeks oppose, As all the Dardan and Argolic race Had been contracted in that narrow space; Or as all Ilium else were void of fear, And tumult, war, and slaughter, only there.
Page 30 - Four times he struck: as oft the clashing sound Of arms was heard, and inward groans rebound. Yet, mad with zeal, and blinded with our fate, We haul along the horse in solemn state; Then place the dire portent within the tow'r. Cassandra cried, and curs'd th' unhappy hour; Foretold our fate; but, by the god's decree, All heard, and none believ'd the prophecy.
Page 35 - O light of Trojans, and support of Troy, Thy father's champion, and thy country's joy! O, long expected by thy friends! from whence Art thou so late...
Page 58 - The fatal work inhuman Pyrrhus plies, And all his father sparkles in his eyes. Nor bars, nor fighting guards, his force sustain : The bars are broken, and the guards are slain. In rush the Greeks, and all the apartments fill ; Those few defendants whom they find, they kill.
Page 28 - His holy fillets the blue venom blots; His roaring fills the flitting air around. Thus, when an ox receives a glancing wound, He breaks his bands, the fatal altar flies, And with loud bellowings breaks the yielding skies.
Page 9 - O wretched countrymen! what fury reigns? What more than madness has possess'd your brains? Think you the Grecians from your coasts are gone? And are Ulysses
Page 20 - Will perpetrate on them their first design, And take the forfeit of their heads for mine? Which, O! if pity mortal minds can move, If there be faith below, or gods above, If innocence and truth can claim desert, Ye Trojans, from an injur'd wretch avert.
Page 54 - And, where the rafters on the columns meet, We push them headlong with our arms and feet. The lightning flies not swifter than the fall, Nor thunder louder than the ruin'd wall : Down goes the top at once ; the Greeks beneath Are piecemeal torn, or pounded into death.

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