PoemsJohn Bumpus, 1818 - 420 sider |
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Side 20
... voice like mine ! Truths , that the theorist could never reach , And observation taught me , I would teach . Not all , whose eloquence the fancy fills , Musical as the chime of tinkling rills , Weak to perform , though mighty to pretend ...
... voice like mine ! Truths , that the theorist could never reach , And observation taught me , I would teach . Not all , whose eloquence the fancy fills , Musical as the chime of tinkling rills , Weak to perform , though mighty to pretend ...
Side 21
... voice , Must be supplied with objects of its choice ; Where'er he turns , enjoyment and delight , Or present , or in prospect , meet his sight ; Those open on the spot their honeyed store ; These call him loudly to pursuit of more . His ...
... voice , Must be supplied with objects of its choice ; Where'er he turns , enjoyment and delight , Or present , or in prospect , meet his sight ; Those open on the spot their honeyed store ; These call him loudly to pursuit of more . His ...
Side 46
... voice of heavenly love , Sad messenger of mercy from above ! How does it grate upon his thankless ear , Crippling his pleasures with the cramp of fear ; His will and judgment at continual strife , That civil war imbitters all his life ...
... voice of heavenly love , Sad messenger of mercy from above ! How does it grate upon his thankless ear , Crippling his pleasures with the cramp of fear ; His will and judgment at continual strife , That civil war imbitters all his life ...
Side 59
... voice That cried , Repent ! --- and gloried in thy choice ? Thy fastings , when calamity at last Suggests th ' expedient of a yearly fast , What mean they ? Canst thou dream there is a power In lighter diet at a later hour , To charm to ...
... voice That cried , Repent ! --- and gloried in thy choice ? Thy fastings , when calamity at last Suggests th ' expedient of a yearly fast , What mean they ? Canst thou dream there is a power In lighter diet at a later hour , To charm to ...
Side 62
... voice . Oh slave ! with powers thou didst not dare exert , Verse cannot stoop so low as thy desert ; It shakes the sides of splenetic disdain , Thou self - entitled ruler of the main , To trace thee to the date when yon fair sea , That ...
... voice . Oh slave ! with powers thou didst not dare exert , Verse cannot stoop so low as thy desert ; It shakes the sides of splenetic disdain , Thou self - entitled ruler of the main , To trace thee to the date when yon fair sea , That ...
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Aspasio beneath bids blest boast breath cause charms dæmons deem delight distant divine docet dream e'en earth ease eyes fair fame fancy fear feel fire flower folly frown give glory grace hand happy hast heard heart heaven honour hope hour human John Gilpin labour land light live lyre mankind mercy mind muse nature Nebaioth never night nymphs o'er once Parnassian peace perhaps pine-apples pity pleasure poet poet's praise pride prize proud prove rapture rest rude sacred scene scorn seems shade shine sighs sight skies slave smile song soon soul sound spleen stream sweet taste telescopic eye thee their's theme thine thou art thought toil tongue trembling trifler truth Twas VINCENT BOURNE Virg virtue waste Weston Underwood WILLIAM BULL WILLIAM COWPER wind wisdom wonder worth youth
Populære avsnitt
Side 328 - I would not enter on my list of friends (Though graced with polished manners and fine sense Yet wanting sensibility) the man Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.
Side 387 - I learned at last submission to my lot, But, though I less deplored thee, ne'er forgot. Where once we dwelt, our name is heard no more, Children not thine have trod my nursery floor...
Side 150 - How fleet is a glance of the mind ! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there ; But alas ! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair. But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair, Even here is a season of rest, And I to my cabin repair. There's mercy in every place, And mercy, encouraging thought ! Gives even affliction a grace,...
Side 387 - All this, and more endearing still than all, Thy constant flow of love, that knew no fall, Ne'er roughened by those cataracts and breaks That humour interposed too often makes; All this still legible in memory's page, And still to be so to my latest age, Adds joy to duty, makes me glad to pay Such honours to thee as my numbers may; Perhaps a frail memorial, but sincere, Not scorned in heaven, though little noticed here.
Side 387 - Tis now become a history little known, That once we called the pastoral house our own. Short-lived possession ! but the record fair, That memory keeps of all thy kindness there, Still outlives many a storm, that has effaced A thousand other themes less deeply traced.
Side 317 - Knowledge dwells In heads replete with thoughts of other men, Wisdom in minds attentive to their own. Knowledge, a rude unprofitable mass, The mere materials with which wisdom builds, Till smoothed and squared and fitted to its place, Does but encumber whom it seems to enrich.
Side 43 - Just knows, and knows no more, her Bible true A. truth the brilliant Frenchman never knew ; And in that charter reads with sparkling eyes Her title to a treasure in the skies.
Side 388 - Shoots into port at some well-havened isle, Where spices breathe and brighter seasons smile, There sits quiescent on the floods, that show Her beauteous form reflected clear below, While airs impregnated with incense play Around her, fanning light her streamers gay; So thou, with sails how swift! hast reached the shore ' Where tempests never beat nor billows roar;' And thy loved consort on the dangerous tide Of life, long since has anchored at thy side.
Side 384 - WHEN the British warrior queen, Bleeding from the Roman rods, Sought, with' an indignant mien, Counsel of her country's gods, Sage beneath the spreading oak Sat the Druid, hoary chief; Every burning word he spoke Full of rage and full of grief.
Side 196 - Were shattered at a blow. Down ran the wine into the road, Most piteous to be seen, Which made his horse's flanks to smoke As they had basted been. But still he seemed to carry weight, With leathern girdle braced; For all might see the bottle-necks Still dangling at his waist.