The Poetical Works of Collins, Gray, and Beattie: With a Memoir of EachTurner & Hayden, 1844 - 308 страници |
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Страница 8
... lonely walls 1 stray ; To her famed Poet's venerated grave Anxious my tribute of respect to pay . O'er the dim pavement of the solemn fane , Midst the rude stones that croud th'adjoining space , The sacred spot I seek : but seek in vain ...
... lonely walls 1 stray ; To her famed Poet's venerated grave Anxious my tribute of respect to pay . O'er the dim pavement of the solemn fane , Midst the rude stones that croud th'adjoining space , The sacred spot I seek : but seek in vain ...
Страница 34
... lonely bed ! The warlike dead of every age , Who fill the fair recording page , Shall leave their sainted rest ; And , half reclining on his spear , Each wondering chief by turns appear , To hail the blooming guest . Old Edward's sons ...
... lonely bed ! The warlike dead of every age , Who fill the fair recording page , Shall leave their sainted rest ; And , half reclining on his spear , Each wondering chief by turns appear , To hail the blooming guest . Old Edward's sons ...
Страница 42
... lonely musing , In hollow murmurs died away . But O ! how alter'd was its sprightlier tone ! When Cheerfulness , a nymph of healthiest hue , Her bow across her shoulders flung , Her buskins gemm'd with morning dew , Blew an inspiring ...
... lonely musing , In hollow murmurs died away . But O ! how alter'd was its sprightlier tone ! When Cheerfulness , a nymph of healthiest hue , Her bow across her shoulders flung , Her buskins gemm'd with morning dew , Blew an inspiring ...
Страница 49
... lonely scene shall thee restore ; For thee the tear be duly shed ; Beloved , till life can charm no more ; And mourn'd , till Pity's self be dead . ODE ON THE DEATH OF MR . THOMSON . The Scene of the following Stanzas is supposed to lie ...
... lonely scene shall thee restore ; For thee the tear be duly shed ; Beloved , till life can charm no more ; And mourn'd , till Pity's self be dead . ODE ON THE DEATH OF MR . THOMSON . The Scene of the following Stanzas is supposed to lie ...
Страница 105
... lonely anguish melts no heart but mine , a And in my breast the imperfect joys expire . b Yet Morning smiles the busy race to cheer , d And new - born pleasure brings to happier men ; The fields to all their wonted tribute bear ; C To ...
... lonely anguish melts no heart but mine , a And in my breast the imperfect joys expire . b Yet Morning smiles the busy race to cheer , d And new - born pleasure brings to happier men ; The fields to all their wonted tribute bear ; C To ...
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Amyntas arms bard beauteous beauty beneath blast blest bloom blooming band bosom bower breast breathe Bring Daphnis home brow Codrus Corydon Damætas dare death deep delight divine dread drest eclogue Eton College fair fame Fancy fate fear fire flame flocks flowers gale glory glow grace Gray grove hand haste hear heart Heaven ignoble prize Julius Cæsar lofty lonely Lycidas lyre maid Margaret of Anjou melting Menalcas mighty mind Mopsus mountains mourn Muse ne'er numbers nymphs o'er Ovid pastoral peace Pindar pine pipe plain poem powerful charms praise pride promised song rage reign round sacred scene shade shepherds sing skies smile soft song soothe soul spring storm strain stream sublime sung swain sweet tear thee thine thou thought Tityrus toil Twas vale verse virtue Virtue's voice warbling wave wild winds wing yonder youth
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Страница 109 - Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind, The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride With incense kindled at the Muse's flame.
Страница 108 - Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys, and destiny obscure ; Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the poor. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Await alike th' inevitable hour : — The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Страница 48 - No wither'd witch shall here be seen, No goblins lead their nightly crew; The female fays shall haunt the green, And dress thy grave with pearly dew ! The red-breast oft at evening hours Shall kindly lend his little aid, With hoary moss, and gather'd flowers, To deck the ground where thou art laid.
Страница 107 - ELEGY, WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD. THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Страница 75 - Where'er the oak's thick branches stretch A broader, browner shade, Where'er the rude and moss-grown beech O'er-canopies the glade, Beside some water's rushy brink With me the Muse shall sit, and think (At ease reclined in rustic state) How vain the ardour of the crowd ! How low, how little, are the proud ! How indigent the great...
Страница 43 - Tis said, and I believe the tale, Thy humblest reed could more prevail, Had more of strength, diviner rage, Than all which charms this laggard age...
Страница 110 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath and near his favourite tree ; Another came ; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he ; The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Страница 27 - How sleep the brave, who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung ; By forms unseen their dirge is sung : There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there ! TO MERCY.
Страница 150 - Say, Father Thames, for thou hast seen Full many a sprightly race Disporting on thy margent green The paths of pleasure trace; Who foremost now delight to cleave With pliant arm, thy glassy wave?
Страница 41 - The doubling drum with furious heat; And, though sometimes, each dreary pause between, Dejected Pity at his side Her soul-subduing voice applied, Yet still he kept his wild unalter'd mien, While each strain'd ball of sight seem'd bursting from his head.