The English Parnassus, or, A helpe to English poesie containing a collection of all rhyming monosyllables, the choicest epithets, and phrases : with some general forms upon all occasions, subjects, and theams, alphabeticaly digested : together with a short institution to English poesie, by way of a preface / by Joshua Poole.

About this Item

Title
The English Parnassus, or, A helpe to English poesie containing a collection of all rhyming monosyllables, the choicest epithets, and phrases : with some general forms upon all occasions, subjects, and theams, alphabeticaly digested : together with a short institution to English poesie, by way of a preface / by Joshua Poole.
Author
Poole, Josua, fl. 1632-1646.
Publication
London :: Printed for Tho. Johnson,
1657.
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Subject terms
English poetry.
Epithets.
English language -- Rhyme -- Dictionaries.
Link to this Item
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A55357.0001.001
Cite this Item
"The English Parnassus, or, A helpe to English poesie containing a collection of all rhyming monosyllables, the choicest epithets, and phrases : with some general forms upon all occasions, subjects, and theams, alphabeticaly digested : together with a short institution to English poesie, by way of a preface / by Joshua Poole." In the digital collection Early English Books Online 2. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A55357.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 1, 2024.

Pages

Oracle.
Where the cleft ground inspires, Oraculous truth. The gaping earth exhales Prophetick winds, Tripodes keepers of fate. A voice so shrill, As all the caves capacious throat might fill, The lawrel falls from ••••thia's frighted hair, The god possest With a full spirit her inspired breast, Her hair upright throws down, The sacred ornaments, and Phoebus crown, Her neck turns wildly round, and down she throws All Tripodes she meets with as she goes, And with an inward fire she burns To crave the Oracles advise, To the undoubted Oracle resort. The Delphian Phoebus did possesse In killing rage his wretched Prophetesse, Making sad death the punishment and hire. Of the poor soul his fury did inspire. An hideous voyce, Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving, A nightly trance or breathed spel, Inspires his pale y'd Priest from the Prophetick cell.
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