The Works of the British Poets: With Lives of the Authors, Volume 37Mitchell, Ames, and White, 1822 - English poetry |
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Page 6
... till his feet throb , And his head thumps , to feed upon the breath Of patriots , bursting with heroic rage , Or placemen , all tranquillity and smiles . This folio of four pages , happy work ! Which not ev'n critics criticise ; that ...
... till his feet throb , And his head thumps , to feed upon the breath Of patriots , bursting with heroic rage , Or placemen , all tranquillity and smiles . This folio of four pages , happy work ! Which not ev'n critics criticise ; that ...
Page 9
... Till the street rings ; no stationary steeds Cough their own knell , while , heedless of the sound , The silent circle fan themselves , and quake : But here the needle plies its busy task , The pattern grows , the well - depicted flow'r ...
... Till the street rings ; no stationary steeds Cough their own knell , while , heedless of the sound , The silent circle fan themselves , and quake : But here the needle plies its busy task , The pattern grows , the well - depicted flow'r ...
Page 14
... till at length the freezing blast , That sweeps the bolted shutter , summons home The recollected pow'rs ; and snapping short The glassy threads , with which the Fancy weaves Her brittle toils , restores me to myself . How calm is my ...
... till at length the freezing blast , That sweeps the bolted shutter , summons home The recollected pow'rs ; and snapping short The glassy threads , with which the Fancy weaves Her brittle toils , restores me to myself . How calm is my ...
Page 20
... till at last Society , grown weary of the load , Shakes her encumber'd lap , and casts them out . But censure profits little : vain the ' attempt To advertise in verse a public pest , That like the filth , with which the peasant feeds ...
... till at last Society , grown weary of the load , Shakes her encumber'd lap , and casts them out . But censure profits little : vain the ' attempt To advertise in verse a public pest , That like the filth , with which the peasant feeds ...
Page 46
... till the pamper'd pest Is made familiar , watches his approach , Comes at his call , and serves him for a friend- To wear out time in numb'ring to and fro The studs , that thick emboss his iron door ; Then downward , and then upward ...
... till the pamper'd pest Is made familiar , watches his approach , Comes at his call , and serves him for a friend- To wear out time in numb'ring to and fro The studs , that thick emboss his iron door ; Then downward , and then upward ...
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Other editions - View all
The Works of the British Poets: With Lives of the Authors, Volume 42 Ezekiel Sanford,Robert Walsh, Jr. No preview available - 2015 |
Common terms and phrases
Aspasio Babylon beauty Belshazzar beneath bloom boast bosom breast breath bright call'd charms cheer clouds dæmons dear death delight divine dread dream Earth ev'n ev'ry eyes fair fame fancy fear feel flow'rs folly form'd frae grace grave groves hand happy hast hear heard heart Heaven hills honour hour king Lard life's liv'd live lov'd lyre MICHAEL BRUCE mind monarch morn mounted best muse Nature Nature's ne'er Nebaioth never night numbers o'er once pale peace plac'd plain pleas'd pleasure pow'r praise pride rest RICHARD JAGO round rude sacred SAMUEL BISHOP scene seem'd shade shines silent clock Sir Charles Bampfylde slaves smile soft song soon soul sound spring Stamp'd strain stream sweet taste tears thee thine thou art thought toil trembling truth Twas vale vex'd virtue voice wild wing wisely store woes XXXVII youth
Popular passages
Page 48 - Wisdom in minds attentive to their own. Knowledge, a rude unprofitable mass, The mere materials with which Wisdom builds, Till smooth'd, and squar'd, and fitted to its place, Does but encumber whom it seems to' enrich. Knowledge is proud that he has learn'd so much ; Wisdom is humble that he knows no more.
Page 136 - But was it such ?—It was.—Where thou art gone, Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown. May I but meet thee on that peaceful shore. The parting word shall pass my lips no more! Thy maidens, griev'd themselves at my concern, What ardently I wish'd, I long believ'd, Oft gave me promise of thy quick return.
Page 135 - TIIAT those lips had language ! Life has pass'd "With me but roughly since I heard thee last. Those lips are thine—thy own sweet smile I see, The same, that oft in childhood solac'd me ; Voice only fails, else how distinct they say, " Grieve not, my child, chase all thy fears away!" The meek intelligence of those dear eyes
Page 4 - and loud hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups, That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful ev'ning in. Not such his ev'ning, who with shining face Sweats in the crowded theatre, and, squeez'd And
Page 69 - for he was slain for us!" The dwellers in the vales and on the rocks Shout to each other, and the mountain tops From distant mountains catch the flying joy ; Till, nation after nation taught the strain, Earth rolls the rapturous Hosanna round. Behold the measure of the promise fill'd ; See Salem built, the labour of a God!
Page 225 - rural seat, And woods thy weleome sing. What time the daisy decks the green, Thy certain voice we hear ; Hast thou a star to guide thy path, Or mark the rolling year ? Delightful visitant ! with thee I hail the time of flowers, And hear the sound of music sweet From hirds among the
Page 226 - Thy sky is ever clear; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song-, No winter in thy year! O could I fly, I'd fly with thee ! We'd make, with joyful wing, Our annual visit o'er the globe, Companions of the Spring! THE
Page 137 - lov'd, and thou so much, That I should ill requite thee to Constrain Thy unbound spirit into bonds again. Thou, as a gallant bark from Albion's coast (the storms all weather'd and the ocean cross'd) Shoots into port at some well-haven'd isle, Where spices breathe, and brighter seasons
Page 51 - Where no eye sees them. And the fairer forms, That cultivation glories in, are his. He sets the bright procession on its way, And marshals all the order of the year; He marks the bounds, which Winter may not pass, And blunts his pointed fury ; in its case, Russet and rude, folds up the tender germe,
Page 131 - X. She, with all a monarch's pride, Felt them in her bosom glow : Rush'd to battle, fought, and died ; Dying hurl'd them at the foe. XI. Ruffians, pitiless as proud, Heav'n awards the vengeance due ; Empire is on us bestow'd, Shame and ruin wait for you.