The British Poets: Including Translations ...

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Page 105 - Soon as the evening shades prevail, The Moon takes up the wondrous tale; And nightly, to the listening Earth, Repeats the story of her birth : Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets, in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole.
Page 106 - When all Thy mercies, O my God, My rising soul surveys, Transported with the view, I'm lost In wonder, love, and praise.
Page 107 - In midst of dangers, fears, and death, Thy goodness I'll adore, And praise thee for thy mercies past, And humbly hope for more. My life, if thou preserv'st my life, Thy sacrifice shall be ; And death, if death must be my doom, Shall join my soul to thee.
Page 106 - HOW are thy servants blest, O Lord, How sure is their defence ! Eternal wisdom is their guide, Their help, omnipotence.
Page 30 - Button had been a servant in the Countess of Warwick's family, who, under the patronage of Addison, kept a coffee-house on the south side of Russell Street, about two doors from Covent Garden. Here it was that the wits of that time used to assemble.
Page 107 - O'erwhelm'd with guilt and fear, I see my Maker, face to face ; O, how shall I appear . 2 If yet, while pardon may be found, And mercy may be sought, My heart with inward horror shrinks, And trembles at the thought ; 3 When thou, O Lord, shalt stand disclosed In majesty severe, And sit in judgment on my soul, O, how shall I appear...
Page 85 - Inspired repulsed battalions to engage, And taught the doubtful battle where to rage. So when an angel, by divine command, With rising tempests shakes a guilty land (Such as of late o'er pale Britannia passed), Calm and serene he drives the furious blast; And pleased the Almighty's orders to perform, Rides in the whirlwind and directs the storm.
Page 106 - Ten thousand thousand precious gifts My daily thanks employ ; Nor is the least a cheerful heart That tastes those gifts with joy.
Page 93 - Where western gales eternally reside, And all the Seasons lavish all their pride ; Blossoms, and fruits, and flowers, together rise, And the whole year in gay confusion lies.
Page 56 - All the enchantment of fancy and all the cogency of argument are employed to recommend to the reader his real interest, the care of pleasing the Author of his being.

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