Tickell

Cited as Tickell. — 17 quotations

Too long hath love engrossed Britannia's stage, And sunk to softness all our tragic rage.

Bereft of him who taught me how to sing.

The golden broidery tender Milkah wove.

Half heaven's convex glitters with the flame.

And Rome deals out her blessings and her gold.

In dells and dales, concealed from human sight.

Each verse so swells expressive of her woes.

Leans in his spear to take his farewell view.

The feathering oar returns the gleam.

He strides indignant, and with haughty cries To single fight the fairy prince defies.

His hot courser pawed the Hungarian plane.

And poll for points of faith his trusty vote.

Reluctant now I touched the trembling string.

To Britain's queen the sceptered suppliant bends.

God shall solve the dark decrees of fate.

They suck pollution through their tingling vein.

In lulling strains the feathered warblers woo.