Poems

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J. Hatchard, 1808 - 258 страници
 

Какво казват хората - Напишете рецензия

Не намерихме рецензии на обичайните места.

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Страница 11 - 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! The moping idiot, and the madman gay.
Страница 5 - Where other cares than those the Muse relates, And other shepherds dwell with other mates; By such examples taught, I paint the cot As Truth will paint it and as bards will not.
Страница 5 - Rank weeds, that every art and care defy, Reign o'er the land and rob the blighted rye : There thistles stretch their prickly arms afar, And to the ragged infant threaten war...
Страница 7 - Where now are these? - Beneath yon cliff they stand, To show the freighted pinnace where to land; To load the ready steed with guilty haste, To fly in terror o'er the pathless waste, Or, when detected, in their straggling course, To foil their foes by cunning or by force; Or, yielding part (which equal knaves demand), To gain a lawless passport through the land.
Страница 129 - With awe, around these silent walks I tread; These are the lasting mansions of the dead:— " The dead," methinks a thousand tongues reply: " These are the tombs of such as cannot die ! " Crown'd with eternal fame, they sit sublime, " And laugh at all the little strife of time.
Страница 3 - THE Village Life, and every care that reigns O'er youthful peasants and declining swains ; What labour yields, and what, that labour past, Age, in its hour of languor, finds at last ; What form the real picture of the poor, Demand a song — the Muse can give no more. Fled are those times, when, in harmonious strains, The rustic poet praised his native plains : No shepherds now, in smooth alternate verse, Their country's beauty or .their nymphs...
Страница 5 - But when amid such pleasing scenes I trace The poor laborious natives of the place, And see the mid-day sun, with fervid ray, On their bare heads and dewy temples play; While some, with feebler heads and fainter hearts, Deplore their fortune, yet sustain their parts: Then shall I dare these real ills to hide In tinsel trappings of poetic pride...
Страница xv - ... carefully retained; the parts he disliked are totally expunged, and others are substituted, which I hope resemble those, more conformable to the taste of so admirable a judge. Nor can I deny myself the melancholy satisfaction of adding, that this poem (and more especially the story of...
Страница 231 - I never addressed myself in the language of decency and friendship, without receiving a decent and friendly answer; with man it has often been otherwise.
Страница 10 - O'er his white locks and bury them in snow, When, roused by rage and muttering in the morn. He mends the broken hedge with icy thorn : — " Why do I live, when I desire to be " At once from life and life's long labour free ? " Like leaves in spring, the young are blown away, " Without the sorrows of a slow decay;

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