The seasons & Castle of indolence, by Thomson. The farmer's boy, Rural tales, Banks of the Wye, &c. &c., by BloomfieldScott, Webster&Geary; printed by A. Sweeting, 1842 - 415 страници |
Между кориците на книгата
Резултати 1 - 5 от 100.
Страница xiv
... sweet a poet should be without a memorial , has denoted the place of his interment for the satisfaction of his admirers in the year of our Lord 1792 . Father of light and life ! Thou good Supreme ! O teach me what is good teach me ...
... sweet a poet should be without a memorial , has denoted the place of his interment for the satisfaction of his admirers in the year of our Lord 1792 . Father of light and life ! Thou good Supreme ! O teach me what is good teach me ...
Страница 17
... sweet - briar hedges I pursue my walk ; Or taste the smell of dairy ; or ascend Some eminence , Augusta , in thy plains , And see the country far diffus'd around , One boundless blush , one white - empurpled show't Of mingled blossoms ...
... sweet - briar hedges I pursue my walk ; Or taste the smell of dairy ; or ascend Some eminence , Augusta , in thy plains , And see the country far diffus'd around , One boundless blush , one white - empurpled show't Of mingled blossoms ...
Страница 21
... sweet pain , That , inly thrilling , but exalts it more . Nor yet injurious act , nor surly deed , Was known among those happy sons of heav'n ; For reason and benevolence were law . Harmonious nature too look'd smiling on . Clear shone ...
... sweet pain , That , inly thrilling , but exalts it more . Nor yet injurious act , nor surly deed , Was known among those happy sons of heav'n ; For reason and benevolence were law . Harmonious nature too look'd smiling on . Clear shone ...
Страница 23
... sweet smiles , and looks erect on heav'r , E'er stoop to mingle with the prowling herd , And dip his tongue in gore ? The beast of prey , Blood stain'd , deserves to bleed ; but you , ye flocks , What have you done ? ye peaceful people ...
... sweet smiles , and looks erect on heav'r , E'er stoop to mingle with the prowling herd , And dip his tongue in gore ? The beast of prey , Blood stain'd , deserves to bleed ; but you , ye flocks , What have you done ? ye peaceful people ...
Страница 26
... sweet ; Those looks demure , that deeply pierce the soul ; Where , with the light of thoughtful reason mix'd ... sweets . See , where the winding vale its lavish stores , Irriguous , spreads . See , how the lily drinks The latent rill ...
... sweet ; Those looks demure , that deeply pierce the soul ; Where , with the light of thoughtful reason mix'd ... sweets . See , where the winding vale its lavish stores , Irriguous , spreads . See , how the lily drinks The latent rill ...
Други издания - Преглед на всички
Често срещани думи и фрази
amid bade bard Barnham beam beauty behold beneath bliss bloom BLORENGE bosom breast breath breeze bright brow Cambrian mountains CASTLE OF INDOLENCE charm CHARTERHOUSE SQUARE cheerful clouds dark dear deep delight dreadful E'en earth ether ev'ry fair fair brow fame fancy feel flame flocks flood flow'rs friends gale Giles gloom glow grace green grove hand happy heard heart heaven hills Idless labour light mind mingled mix'd morn mountain Muse Nature Nature's night numbers o'er peace Phoebe plain poison'd pow'r pride rage rapture rills rise roar rocks Rooks round rous'd scene shade shining shore sigh silent sing sleep smile snow soft song soul spread Spring storm stream stretch'd summer sweet swell tempest tender thee thine Thomson thou thought toil trembling truth Twas vale vex'd virtue wave Widow Jones wild winds wing woods youth
Популярни откъси
Страница 152 - Still sing the God of Seasons as they roll. For me — when I forget the darling theme, Whether the blossom blows, the summer ray Russets the plain, inspiring autumn gleams, Or winter rises in the blackening east, Be my tongue mute, my fancy paint no more, And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat!
Страница 130 - Ah little think the gay licentious proud, Whom pleasure, power, and affluence surround; They, who their thoughtless hours in giddy mirth, And wanton, often cruel, riot waste; Ah little think they, while they dance along, How many feel, this very moment, death And all the sad variety of pain.
Страница 129 - Wisely regardful of the embroiling sky, In joyless fields and thorny thickets, leaves His shivering mates, and pays to trusted man His annual visit. Half afraid, he first Against the window beats; then, brisk, alights On the warm hearth; then, hopping o'er the floor, Eyes all the smiling family askance, And pecks, and starts, and wonders where he is; Till more familiar grown, the table-crumbs Attract his slender feet.
Страница 151 - Ye forests, bend ; ye harvests, wave to him — Breathe your still song into the reaper's heart As home he goes beneath the joyous moon.
Страница 42 - Delightful task! to rear the tender thought, To teach the young idea how to shoot, To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind, To breathe the' enlivening spirit, and to fix The generous purpose in the glowing breast.
Страница 150 - THESE, as they change, Almighty Father, these, Are but the varied God. The rolling year Is full of Thee. Forth in the pleasing Spring Thy beauty walks, Thy tenderness and love. Wide flush the fields ; the softening air is balm ; Echo the mountains round ; the forest smiles ; And every sense, and every heart, is joy.
Страница 152 - Ye woodlands all, awake : a boundless song Burst from the groves ! and when the restless day, Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep, Sweetest of birds, sweet Philomela, charm The listening shades, and teach the night His praise.
Страница 92 - Raised the strong crane ; choked up the loaded street With foreign plenty; and thy stream, O Thames, Large, gentle, deep, majestic, king of floods ! Chose for his grand resort.
Страница 150 - With light and heat refulgent. Then thy sun Shoots full perfection through the swelling year : And oft thy voice in dreadful thunder speaks ; And oft at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve, By brooks and groves, in hollow-whispering gales.
Страница 130 - His tufted cottage rising through the snow, He meets the roughness of the middle waste, Far from the track, and blest abode of Man ; While round him night resistless closes fast, And every tempest, howling o'er his head, Renders the savage wilderness more wild.