Specimens of the British Poets: With Biographical and Critical Notices, and an Essay on English Poetry, Volum 5

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Thomas Campbell
John Murray, 1819
 

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Side 110 - Hark ! they whisper ; angels say, ' Sister Spirit, come away ! ' What is this absorbs me quite ? Steals my senses, shuts my sight, Drowns my spirits, draws my breath ? Tell me, my soul, can this be Death...
Side 219 - A pleasing land of drowsy-head it was, Of dreams that wave before the half-shut eye ; And of gay castles in the clouds that pass, For ever flushing round a summer sky...
Side 311 - Who slept in buds the day, And many a Nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge And sheds the freshening dew, and lovelier still The pensive Pleasures sweet, Prepare thy shadowy car.
Side 125 - Thrice she look'd back, and thrice the foe drew near. Just in that instant, anxious Ariel sought The close recesses of the virgin's thought : As on the nosegay in her breast reclin'd, He watch'd th...
Side 312 - Winter yelling through the troublous air, Affrights thy shrinking train, And rudely rends thy robes : So long, regardful of thy quiet rule, Shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, smiling Peace, Thy gentlest influence own, And love thy favourite name ! ODE TO PEACE.
Side 134 - And trust me, dear ! good-humour can prevail, When airs, and flights, and screams, and scolding fail. Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll ; Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.
Side 396 - But sure such folks could ne'er beget So sweet a girl as Sally ! She is the darling of my heart, And she lives in our alley.
Side 112 - Soft yielding minds to water glide away, And sip, with nymphs, their elemental tea. The graver prude sinks downward to a gnome, In search of mischief still on earth to roam. The light coquettes in sylphs aloft repair, And sport and flutter in the fields of air.
Side 116 - Favours to none, to all she smiles extends ; Oft she rejects, but never once offends. Bright as the sun, her eyes the gazers strike ; And, like the sun, they shine on all alike.
Side 119 - Planets through the boundless Sky. Some less refin'd, beneath the Moon's pale Light Pursue the Stars that shoot athwart the Night ; Or suck the Mists in grosser Air below, Or dip their Pinions in the painted Bow, Or brew fierce Tempests on the wintry Main, Or o'er the Glebe distil the kindly Rain.

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