The rural walks of Cowper; displayed in a series of views near Olney, representing the scenery exemplified in his poemsJ. and H.S. Storer, 1822 - 57 sider |
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Rural Walks of Cowper: Displayed in a Series of Views Near Olney, Bucks ... James Sargant 1771-1853 Storer,William 1731-1800 Cowper Ingen forhåndsvisning tilgjengelig - 2021 |
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afford afterwards Alcove amiable appear bart Basset boughs building Clifton Colonnade Cowper resided Cowper's Poems Demy 8vo Dereham described distance Drawn Eng Eartham elms eminence Eng & Pub erected fame garden grove H. S. STORER heart Hertfordshire Homer India Paper inscribed J&H.S.Storer J&HS Storer London Lady Austin Lady Hesketh meadows melancholy miles mind Monumental Urn Moss House Mundsley Neptune Newport Pagnell Norfolk Numbers Olney Church OLNEY HYMNS orchard Ouse overpowered his reason Overs-brook park Peasant's Nest Peasants Plates poet Poet's Poplars present Pub Jan river Ouse road from Olney RURAL WALKS rustic Bridge seat of Sir shade shrubbery Silver End Sir George Throckmorton Sir John Throckmorton Spire of Olney Summer House Task town of Olney translation trees valley Vicarage village of Emberton village of Weston volume WALKS OF COWPER wall Weston Hall Weston Lodge Wilderness WILLIAM COWPER winding woods of Kilwick Yardley Oak yews
Populære avsnitt
Side 10 - Scenes must be beautiful, which daily viewed Please daily, and whose novelty survives Long knowledge and the scrutiny of years.
Side 32 - How oft upon yon eminence our pace Has slacken'd to a pause, and we have borne The ruffling wind, scarce conscious that it blew, While Admiration, feeding at the eye, And still unsated, dwelt upon the scene.
Side 25 - YE, who with warmth the public triumph feel Of talents dignified by sacred zeal, Here, to devotion's bard devoutly just, Pay your fond tribute due to Cowper's dust ! England, exulting in his spotless fame, Ranks with her dearest sons his favourite name.
Side 17 - THERE is in souls a sympathy with sounds; And as the mind is pitch'd the ear is pleased With melting airs, or martial, brisk, or grave : Some chord in unison with what we hear Is touch'd within us, and the heart replies.
Side 25 - How airy and how light the graceful arch, Yet awful as the consecrated roof Re-echoing pious anthems ! while beneath The chequered earth seems restless as a flood Brushed by the wind. So sportive is the light Shot through the boughs, it dances as they dance, Shadow and sunshine intermingling quick, And darkening and enlightening, as the leaves Play wanton, every moment, every spot.
Side 28 - Twelve years have elapsed, since I last took a view Of my favourite field, and the bank where they grew ; And now in the grass behold they are laid, And the tree is my seat that once lent me a shade. The blackbird has fled to another retreat, Where the hazels afford him a screen from the heat, And the scene, where his melody charm 'd me before, Resounds with his sweet-flowing ditty no more.
Side 18 - The season smiles, resigning all its rage, And has the warmth of May. The vault is blue Without a cloud, and white without a speck The dazzling splendour of the scene below. Again the harmony comes o'er the vale ; And through the trees I view the embattled tower Whence all the music.
Side 46 - From many a twig the pendent drops of ice That tinkle in the wither'd leaves below. Stillness, accompanied with sounds so soft, Charms more than silence. Meditation here May think down hours to moments. Here the heart May give a useful lesson to the head, And Learning wiser grow without his books.
Side 45 - OH, happy shades — to me unblest ! Friendly to peace, but not to me ! How ill the scene that offers rest, And heart that cannot rest, agree ! This glassy stream, that spreading pine, Those alders, quivering to the breeze, Might soothe a soul less hurt than mine, And please, if any thing could please. But fix'd unalterable Care Foregoes not what she feels within, Shows the same sadness everywhere, And slights the season and the scene.
Side 18 - Thy silver locks, once auburn bright, Are still more lovely in my sight Than golden beams of orient light. My Mary ! For, could I view nor them nor thee, What sight worth seeing could I see ? The sun would rise in vain for me. My Mary ! Partakers of thy sad decline, Thy hands their little force resign ; Yet, gently prest, press gently mine, My Mary...