The Works, Том 1

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Страница 10 - As you who praise would never deign to touch. Ye gentle souls, who dream of rural ease, Whom the smooth stream and smoother sonnet please ; Go ! if the peaceful cot your praises share, Go look within, and ask if peace be there ; If peace be his — that drooping weary sire, Or theirs, that offspring round their feeble fire ; Or hers, that matron pale, whose trembling hand Turns on the wretched hearth th...
Страница 15 - passing rich with forty pounds a year?" Ah! no, a Shepherd of a different stock, And far unlike him, feeds this little flock; A jovial youth, who thinks his Sunday's task, As much as God or Man can fairly ask; The rest he gives to loves and labours light, To Fields the morning and to Feasts the night; None better...
Страница 9 - Go, then! and see them rising with the sun, Through a long course of daily toil to run; See them beneath the dog-star's raging heat, When the knees tremble and the temples beat; Behold them, leaning on their scythes, look o'er The labour past, and toils to come explore; See them alternate suns and showers engage, And hoard up aches and anguish for their age...
Страница xviii - ... original, vigorous, and elegant. — The alterations which I have made, I do not require him to adopt ; for, my lines are, perhaps, not often better [than] his own : but he may take mine and his own together, and perhaps, between them, produce something better than either. — He is not to think his copy wantonly defaced : a wet sponge will wash all the red lines away, and leave the pages clean.
Страница 22 - Such are their natures and their passions such, But these disguise too little, those too much : So shall the man of power and pleasure...
Страница 229 - They placed me where those streamers play, «<> Those nimble beams of brilliant light; It would the stoutest heart dismay, To see, to feel, that dreadful sight: So swift, so pure, so cold, so bright, They pierced my frame with icy wound, And, all that half-year's polar night, Those dancing streamers wrapp'd me round.
Страница 16 - While bending low, their eager eyes explore The mingled relics of the parish poor. The bell tolls late, the moping owl flies round, Fear marks the flight and magnifies the sound...
Страница 12 - Whose walls of mud scarce bear the broken door ; There, where the putrid vapours, flagging, play, And the dull wheel hums doleful through the day; — There children dwell who know no parents' care} Parents, who know no children's love, dwell there ! Heart-broken matrons on their joyless bed, Forsaken wives, and mothers never wed; Dejected widows with unheeded tears, And crippled age with more than childhood fears; The lame, the blind, and, far the happiest they!
Страница 8 - As on their neighbouring beach yon swallows stand , And wait for favouring winds to leave the land ; While still for flight the ready wing is spread : So waited I the favouring hour, and fled...
Страница 13 - Here, on a matted flock, with dust o'erspread, The drooping wretch reclines his languid head; For him no hand the cordial cup applies, Or wipes the tear that stagnates in his eyes; No friends with soft discourse his pain beguile, Or promise hope till sickness wears a smile.

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