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Страница 19 - I AM monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute ; From the centre all round to the sea, I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
Страница 26 - Busy, curious, thirsty fly, Drink with me, and drink as I ; Freely welcome to my cup, Couldst thou sip and sip it up. Make the most of life you may ; Life is short, and wears away. " Both alike are mine and thine, Hastening quick to their decline ; Thine's a summer, mine no more, Though repeated to threescore ; Threescore summers, when they're gone, Will appear as short as one.
Страница 6 - TO THE GRASSHOPPER AND CRICKET LEIGH HUNT Green little' vaulter in the sunny grass, Catching your heart up at the feel of June — Sole voice that's heard amidst the lazy noon When even the bees lag at the summoning brass; And you, warm little housekeeper, who class With those who think the candles come too soon, Loving the fire, and with your tricksome tune Nick the glad silent moments as they pass; O sweet and tiny cousins, that belong, One to the fields, the other to the hearth...
Страница 13 - Where some, like magistrates, correct at home, Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds ; Which pillage they with merry march bring...
Страница 5 - THE poetry of earth is never dead : When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead ; That is the Grasshopper's...
Страница 18 - CHILD of the sun ! pursue thy rapturous flight, Mingling with her thou lov'st in fields of light; And, where the flowers of Paradise unfold, Quaff fragrant nectar from their cups of gold. There shall thy wings, rich as an evening sky, Expand and shut with silent ecstasy! —Yet wert thou once a worm, a thing that crept On the bare earth, then wrought a tomb and slept. And such is man ; soon from his cell of clay To burst a seraph in the blaze of day ! 1 Mrs.
Страница 19 - How fleet is a glance of the mind ! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift winged arrows of light When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there ; But alas ! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair. But the seafowl is gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair ; Even here is a season of rest, And I to my cabin repair. There's mercy in every place, And mercy, encouraging thought! Gives even affliction a grace,...
Страница 27 - Thou dost drink, and dance, and sing, Happier than the happiest king. All the fields which thou dost see, All the plants, belong to thee ; All that summer hours produce, Fertile made with early juice; Man for thee does sow and plow; Farmer he, and landlord thou ! Thou dost innocently joy, Nor does thy luxury destroy.
Страница 3 - COME, take up your hats, and away let us haste To the Butterfly's ball, and the Grasshopper's feast; The trumpeter Gadfly has summoned the crew, And the revels are now only waiting for you.
Страница 19 - Ye winds, that have made me your sport, Convey to this desolate shore Some cordial endearing report Of a land I shall visit no more. My friends, — do they now and then send A wish or a thought after me ? O tell me I yet have a friend, Though a friend I am never to see.