The Poetical Works of James Beattie, and the Poems and Plays of Oliver GoldsmithSheldon and Company, 1864 - 458 страници |
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Страница 39
... wretched fare : shivering in caves , Or scorch'd on rocks , he pines from day to day ; But Science gives the word ; and lo , he braves The surge and tempest , lighted by her ray , And to a happier land wafts merrily away ! L. " And even ...
... wretched fare : shivering in caves , Or scorch'd on rocks , he pines from day to day ; But Science gives the word ; and lo , he braves The surge and tempest , lighted by her ray , And to a happier land wafts merrily away ! L. " And even ...
Страница 66
... wretched race , the scorn of Fate , Whom ills of every sort await ! Oh , cursed with keenest sense to feel The sharpest sting of every ill ! Say ye , who , fraught with mighty scheme , Of liberty and vengeance dream , What now remains ...
... wretched race , the scorn of Fate , Whom ills of every sort await ! Oh , cursed with keenest sense to feel The sharpest sting of every ill ! Say ye , who , fraught with mighty scheme , Of liberty and vengeance dream , What now remains ...
Страница 67
... wretch , " they said , " Whom our approach can strike with dread ? " An instantaneous change of thought To tumult every bosom wrought . So fares the system - building sage , Who , plodding on from youth to age , At last on some ...
... wretch , " they said , " Whom our approach can strike with dread ? " An instantaneous change of thought To tumult every bosom wrought . So fares the system - building sage , Who , plodding on from youth to age , At last on some ...
Страница 68
... wretched , sink beneath Our lighter ills , and rush to death . No more of this unmeaning rage , But hear , my friends , the words of age . " When by the winds of autumn driven The scatter'd clouds fly cross the heaven , Oft have we ...
... wretched , sink beneath Our lighter ills , and rush to death . No more of this unmeaning rage , But hear , my friends , the words of age . " When by the winds of autumn driven The scatter'd clouds fly cross the heaven , Oft have we ...
Страница 139
... wretched swain . How rich my flock thou carest not to know , Nor how my pails with generous milk o'erflow . With bleat of thousand lambs my hills resound , And all the year my milky stores abound . Not Amphion's lays were sweeter than ...
... wretched swain . How rich my flock thou carest not to know , Nor how my pails with generous milk o'erflow . With bleat of thousand lambs my hills resound , And all the year my milky stores abound . Not Amphion's lays were sweeter than ...
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adorn afar alarms Amyntas balmy beauty blest bloom blooming band bosom bower breast breath charms cheer cliffs clouds Corydon DAMETAS Daphnis dark dart deep Dr Johnson dread fame Fancy Fancy's fate fire flame flies flocks flowers foes Fordoun forlorn gale gentle glittering gloom glory glow grace grove hail heart Heaven hope hour JAMES BEATTIE Julius Cæsar land Laurencekirk lone LYCIDAS lyre MENALCAS mind mirth MOPSUS mountains mourn murmuring Muse Nature's ne'er nymphs o'er OLIVER GOLDSMITH peace pines plain pleasure pomp praise pride promised song rage rapture roam roll round scene shade shepherd sing skies smile soft song soothe soul spleen storm strain stream sublime swain sweet Sweet Auburn tear thee thine thou toil trembling truth Twas vale verse virtue Virtue's voice wander warbling wave wild wind wings wretched yonder youth
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Страница 169 - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden -flower grows wild; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year...
Страница 180 - How small of all that human hearts endure, That part which laws or kings can cause or cure.
Страница 251 - And in that town a dog was found, As many dogs there be, Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound. And curs of low degree.
Страница 189 - REMOTE, unfriended, melancholy, slow — Or by the lazy Scheldt or wandering Po, Or onward where the rude Carinthian boor Against the houseless stranger shuts the door, Or where Campania's plain forsaken lies A weary waste expanding to the skies — Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see, My heart, untravell'd, fondly turns to thee ; Still to my Brother turns, with ceaseless pain, And drags at each remove a lengthening chain.
Страница 234 - No flocks that range the valley free, To slaughter I condemn ; Taught by that Power that pities me, I learn to pity them. " But from the mountain's grassy side A guiltless feast I bring, A scrip with herbs and fruits supplied, And water from the spring. "Then, pilgrim, turn, thy cares forego ; All earth-born cares are wrong : Man wants but little here below, Nor wants that little long.
Страница 59 - Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more ; I mourn, but, ye woodlands, I mourn not for you; For morn is approaching, your charms to restore, Perfumed with fresh fragrance, and glittering with dew: Nor yet for the ravage of Winter I mourn ; Kind Nature the embryo blossom will save.
Страница 204 - ... humble bowers to lay me down ; To husband out life's taper at the close. And keep the flame from wasting by repose. I still had hopes, for pride attends us still, Amidst the swains to show my...
Страница 208 - Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, And e'en his failings lean'd to virtue's side; But in his duty prompt at every call, He watch'd and wept, he pray'd and felt for all : And, as a bird each fond endearment tries, To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Страница 189 - But me, not destined such delights to share, My prime of life in wandering spent and care ; Impell'd, with steps unceasing, to pursue Some fleeting good, that mocks me with the view ; That, like the circle bounding earth and skies, Allures from far, yet, as I follow, flies ; My fortune leads to traverse realms alone, And find no spot of all the world my own.
Страница 230 - Though secure of our hearts, yet confoundedly sick If they were not his own by finessing and trick: He cast off his friends as a huntsman his pack, For he knew when he pleased he could whistle them back.