The Works of the British Poets: With Lives of the Authors, Volume 37 |
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Page 66
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 .
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 .
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Other editions - View all
The Works of the British Poets: With Lives of the Authors, Volume 7 Ezekiel Sanford,Robert Walsh, Jr. No preview available - 2015 |
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arms beam beauty beneath bloom breast breath bright cause charms cheerful clouds course dark dear death deep delight dream earth ev'ry fair faithful fall fear feel fields fire flowers force fruit give grace grave green grove half hand happy haste head hear heard heart Heaven hill hope hour king land leave less light live look Lord lost mind morn Nature Nature's never night o'er once pain peace plain pow'r pride race rest rise round sacred scene shade side silent smile soft song soon soul sound Spring stand strain stream sweet taste tears tell thee thine thou thought Till trees trembling truth turn vain vale virtue voice wild wing woes wood XXXVII youth
Popular passages
Page 49 - 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.
Bibliographic information
| Title | The Works of the British Poets: With Lives of the Authors, Volume 37 The Works of the British Poets: With Lives of the Authors, Ezekiel Sanford |
| Author | Ezekiel Sanford |
| Editors | Ezekiel Sanford, Robert Walsh |
| Publisher | Mitchell, Ames, and White, 1822 |
| Original from | the New York Public Library |
| Digitized | 20 Oct 2005 |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |