Poems,: In Two Volumes,

Forside
Longman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme, 1807

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Side 73 - There are who ask not if thine eye Be on them; who, in love and truth, Where no misgiving is, rely Upon the genial sense of youth : Glad Hearts! without reproach or blot Who do thy work, and know it not: Oh!
Side 123 - IT is a beauteous evening, calm and free ; The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration...
Side 70 - I travelled among unknown men, In lands beyond the sea; Nor, England! did I know till then What love I bore to thee. Tis past, that melancholy dream! Nor will I quit thy shore A second time; for still I seem To love thee more and more.
Side 140 - Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Side 36 - But who, if he be called upon to face Some awful moment to which Heaven has joined Great issues, good or bad for human kind, Is happy as a Lover; and attired With sudden brightness, like a Man inspired...
Side 75 - Stern Lawgiver! yet thou dost wear The Godhead's most benignant grace; Nor know we anything so fair As is the smile upon thy face: Flowers laugh before thee on their beds And fragrance in thy footing treads; Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong; And the most ancient heavens, through thee, Are fresh and strong.
Side 103 - Nuns fret not at their convent's narrow room, And hermits are contented with their cells, And students with their pensive citadels; Maids at the wheel, the weaver at his loom, Sit blithe and happy; bees that soar for bloom, High as the highest Peak of Furness-fells, Will murmur by the hour in foxglove bells; In truth the prison unto which we doom Ourselves no prison is...
Side 25 - Long as there's a sun that sets, Primroses will have their glory; Long as there are violets, They will have a place in story: There's a flower that shall be mine, 'Tis the little Celandine. Eyes of some men travel far For the finding of a star; Up and down the heavens they go, Men that keep a mighty rout! I'm as great as they, I trow, Since the day I found thee out, Little Flower! — I'll make a stir, Like a sage astronomer.
Side 37 - Come when it will, is equal to the need: — He who, though thus endued as with a sense And faculty for storm and turbulence, Is yet a Soul whose master-bias leans To homefelt pleasures and to gentle scenes; 60 Sweet images!
Side 34 - Who, doomed to go in company with Pain, And Fear, and Bloodshed, miserable train! Turns his necessity to glorious gain; In face of these doth exercise a power Which is our human nature's highest dower; Controls them and subdues, transmutes, bereaves Of their bad influence, and their good receives...

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