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Anna Seward bard beam Beauty beneath blank verse blast blest bliss bloom boast bosom bower breast breath bright brow charms courser Covent Garden dark dear death delight dread earth ev'ry fair falchion fame Fancy fate flame fond gale Genius gentle glow grace grief grove hand haste heart Heaven hills honour hope hour hour of Victory LITTLE sweep lov’d lyre maid mind mourn Muse ne'er night numbers Nymph o'er pain pale peace pity plain pleasure Poems poet poetical poison'd praise pride rapture reign round sacred Saladin scenes shade shed shine sigh silent Small 8vo smile soft song SONNET soothe sorrow soul spirit strain stream sweet Sylph tear tender Theatre Royal thee thine Thomas Dibdin thou thought thro vale verse Virtue voice wave weep wild winds wing youth
Страница 416 - Lo ! where the heath, with withering brake grown o'er Lends the light turf that warms the neighbouring poor ; From thence a length of burning sand appears, Where the thin harvest waves its...
Страница 421 - Theirs is yon House that holds the parish poor, Whose walls of mud scarce bear the broken door; There, where the putrid vapours, flagging, play, 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!
Страница 419 - Ye gentle souls, who dream of rural ease, Whom the smooth stream and smoother sonnet please; Go! if the peaceful cot your praises share, Go look within, and ask if peace be there; If peace be his — that drooping weary sire, Or theirs, that offspring round their feeble fire; Or hers, that matron pale, whose trembling hand Turns on the wretched hearth th
Страница 416 - Which neither groves nor happy valleys boast; 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 414 - On Mincio's banks, in Caesar's bounteous reign, If Tityrus found the Golden Age again, Must sleepy bards the flattering dream prolong, Mechanic echoes of the Mantuan song? From Truth and Nature shall we widely stray, Where Virgil, not where Fancy, leads the way? Yes, thus the Muses sing of happy swains, Because the Muses never knew their pains. They boast their peasants...
Страница 415 - I grant indeed that fields and flocks have charms For him that grazes or for him that farms; 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...
Страница 423 - Impatience mark'd in his averted eyes; And, some habitual queries hurried o'er, Without reply, he rushes on the door: His drooping patient, long inured to pain, And long unheeded, knows remonstrance vain; He ceases now the feeble help to crave Of man; and silent sinks into the grave. But ere his death some pious doubts arise, Some simple fears, which 'bold bad...
Страница 424 - Ah! no; a shepherd of a different stock, And far unlike him, feeds this little flock : A jovial youth, who thinks his Sunday's task As much as God or man can fairly ask; The rest he gives to loves and labours light, To fields the morning, and to feasts the night; None better...
Страница 420 - On which, a boy, he climb'd the loftiest bough, Then his first joy, but his sad emblem now. He once was chief in all the rustic trade ; His steady hand the straightest furrow made ; Full many a prize he won, and still is proud...