The Wreath: A Collection of Poems from Celebrated English AuthorsW.B. Gilley and H.I. Megarey, 1821 - 259 sider |
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Side 20
... hour of drought ! " Why do the birds , that song and rapture brought " To all your bowers , their mansions now forsake ? " Ah ! why has fickle chance this ruin wrought ? " For now the storm howls mournful thro ' the brake , " And the ...
... hour of drought ! " Why do the birds , that song and rapture brought " To all your bowers , their mansions now forsake ? " Ah ! why has fickle chance this ruin wrought ? " For now the storm howls mournful thro ' the brake , " And the ...
Side 26
... hour ; The partridge bursts away on whirring wings ; Deep mourns the turtle in sequester'd bower , And shrill lark carols clear from her aerial tour . O Nature , how in every charm supreme ! Whose votaries feast on raptures ever new ! O ...
... hour ; The partridge bursts away on whirring wings ; Deep mourns the turtle in sequester'd bower , And shrill lark carols clear from her aerial tour . O Nature , how in every charm supreme ! Whose votaries feast on raptures ever new ! O ...
Side 33
... hour is all that thou canst claim . But if ***** on this labour smile , New strains ere long shall animate thy frame , And his applause to me is more than fame ; For still with truth accords his taste refin'd . At lucre or renown let ...
... hour is all that thou canst claim . But if ***** on this labour smile , New strains ere long shall animate thy frame , And his applause to me is more than fame ; For still with truth accords his taste refin'd . At lucre or renown let ...
Side 35
... hour . Mark yonder oaks ! superior to the power Of all the warring winds of heaven they rise , And from the stormy promontory tower , And toss their giant arms amid the skies , While each assailing blast increase of strength supplies ...
... hour . Mark yonder oaks ! superior to the power Of all the warring winds of heaven they rise , And from the stormy promontory tower , And toss their giant arms amid the skies , While each assailing blast increase of strength supplies ...
Side 41
... hours away , but seek the Hermit's cell ; " " " Tis he my doubt can clear , perhaps my care dispel . " At early dawn the Youth his journey took , And many a mountain pass'd , and valley wide , Then reach the wild ; where in a flowery ...
... hours away , but seek the Hermit's cell ; " " " Tis he my doubt can clear , perhaps my care dispel . " At early dawn the Youth his journey took , And many a mountain pass'd , and valley wide , Then reach the wild ; where in a flowery ...
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The Wreath: A Collection of Poems from Celebrated English Authors WREATH. Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1824 |
The wreath; a collection of poems, from celebrated English authors Wreath Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1830 |
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
agen bard beam beauty beneath blest bliss blood bloom bosom breast breath call'd calm charms cheer clouds dark death deep dread e'er earth Edwin eternal ev'n eyes fair fame fancy fate fire flame flowers gale gentle gloomy glory grace grave Greece groves hand heart heaven Hermit horror hour Indolence light lonely lov'd love lies bleeding lyre mind moping morn mountains mourn Muse Musidora nature Nature's ne'er never night nursling o'er pain peace Philomela pity pleasure praise pride rage raptures repose rills rise round Rous'd scene seem'd seraph shade shore sigh skies sleep smil'd smile soft song sooth sorrow soul sound spleen Stamp'd storm stream sublime sweet tears tempest thee thine thou thro toil trembling Twas tyrant vale vext virtue voice wandering wave weary ween Whilst wild wings wretch youth
Populære avsnitt
Side 127 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Side 16 - IX. 0 how canst thou renounce the boundless store Of charms which Nature to her votary yields! The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields; All that the genial ray of morning gilds, And all that echoes to the song of even, All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, And all the dread magnificence of heaven, O how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven ! X.
Side 183 - Basks in the glare, or stems the tepid wave, And thanks his gods for all the good they gave. Such is the patriot's boast where'er we roam, His first, best country, ever is at home. And yet, perhaps, if countries we compare, And estimate the blessings which they share, Though patriots flatter, still shall wisdom find An equal portion dealt to all mankind ; As different good, by art or nature given To different nations, makes their blessings even.
Side 185 - Whatever blooms in torrid tracts appear, Whose bright succession decks the varied year; Whatever sweets salute the northern sky With vernal lives, that blossom but to die ; These here disporting own the kindred soil, Nor ask luxuriance from the planter's toil ; While sea-born gales their gelid wings expand, To winnow fragrance round the smiling land.
Side 192 - Stern o'er each bosom reason holds her state, With daring aims irregularly great; Pride in their port, defiance in their eye, I see the lords of human kind pass by...
Side 182 - But me, not destined such delights to share, My prime of life in wandering spent and care ; Impell'd, with steps unceasing, to pursue Some fleeting good, that mocks me with the view ; That, like the circle bounding earth and skies, Allures from far, yet, as I follow, flies ; My fortune leads to traverse realms alone, And find no spot of all the world my own.
Side 136 - FAINTLY as tolls the evening chime, Our voices keep tune, and our oars keep time. Soon as the woods on shore look dim, We'll sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn ! Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast, The rapids are near and the daylight's past.
Side 119 - When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds too late that men betray ; What charm can soothe her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away ? The only art her guilt to cover, To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom — is to die.
Side 191 - Heavens ! how unlike their Belgic sires of old ! Rough, poor, content, ungovernably bold ; War in each breast, and freedom on each brow. How much unlike the sons of Britain now ! Fir*d at the sound, my genius spreads her wing, And flies where Britain courts the western spring ; Where lawns extend that scorn Arcadian pride, And brighter streams than fam'd Hydaspes glide.
Side 107 - Love framed with Mirth a gay fantastic round : Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound; And he, amidst his frolic play, As if he would the charming air repay, Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings.