The Poetical Works of W. CollinsLeavitt, Trow & Company, 1848 - 144 sider |
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Side 32
... native deserts bred , By lust incited , or by malice led , The villain Arab , as he prowls for prey , Oft marks with blood and wasting flames the way . Yet none so cruel as the Tartar foe , To death inur'd , and nurs'd in scenes of woe ...
... native deserts bred , By lust incited , or by malice led , The villain Arab , as he prowls for prey , Oft marks with blood and wasting flames the way . Yet none so cruel as the Tartar foe , To death inur'd , and nurs'd in scenes of woe ...
Side 38
... native plains , Been sooth'd by Pity's lute . There first the wren thy myrtles shed On gentlest Otway's infant head , To him thy cell was shown ; And while he sung the female heart , With youth's soft notes unspoil'd by art , Thy ...
... native plains , Been sooth'd by Pity's lute . There first the wren thy myrtles shed On gentlest Otway's infant head , To him thy cell was shown ; And while he sung the female heart , With youth's soft notes unspoil'd by art , Thy ...
Side 45
... native charms infuse ! The flowers that sweetest breathe , Though Beauty cull'd the wreath , Still ask thy hand to range their order'd hues . While Rome could none esteem But virtue's patriot theme , You lov'd her hills , and led her ...
... native charms infuse ! The flowers that sweetest breathe , Though Beauty cull'd the wreath , Still ask thy hand to range their order'd hues . While Rome could none esteem But virtue's patriot theme , You lov'd her hills , and led her ...
Side 49
... , the fancied glades among , By which as Milton lay , his evening ear , From many a cloud that dropp'd ethereal dew , Nigh spher'd in heaven , its native strains could hear ; E On which that ancient trump he reach'd was hung : 49.
... , the fancied glades among , By which as Milton lay , his evening ear , From many a cloud that dropp'd ethereal dew , Nigh spher'd in heaven , its native strains could hear ; E On which that ancient trump he reach'd was hung : 49.
Side 59
... native's feet Were wont thy form celestial meet : Though now with hopeless toil we trace Time's backward rolls , to find its place ; Whether the fiery - tressed Dane , Or Roman's self o'erturn'd the fane , Or in what heav'n - left age ...
... native's feet Were wont thy form celestial meet : Though now with hopeless toil we trace Time's backward rolls , to find its place ; Whether the fiery - tressed Dane , Or Roman's self o'erturn'd the fane , Or in what heav'n - left age ...
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Abra lov'd AGIB allegorical imagery ancient ANTISTROPHE bard beautiful blank verse blast blest boast breathe Brownie charm Circassia Collins delight dreary drest E'en epithalamium ev'ry eyes fair fairy Fancy Fear flowers fond genius Georgian maid golden hair Greece green grief grove hail hand happy haste haunt hear heard heart Hebrides hour isle Jocasta JOHN HOME light lubber fiend luckless lyre lyric magic maid like Abra midst mind moral mountains mourn murmurs muse myrtles native nature Ne'er numbers Nymph o'er ORIENTAL ECLOGUES passions pastoral Pity Pity's plain poems poet poet's poetical Polynices rage round rove royal Abbas mov'd scene Schiraz shade shepherds sighs simplicity song Sophocles sounds strain sullen sung swain sweet tears tender thee Theocritus thou thought toil truth vale verse virtue voice of Peace WATCHET western isle wild YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY youth like royal εν
Populære avsnitt
Side 68 - midst its dreary dells, Whose walls more awful nod By thy religious gleams. Or if chill blustering winds or driving rain Prevent my willing feet, be mine the hut That, from the mountain's side, Views wilds and swelling floods, And hamlets brown, and dim-discover'd spires; And hears their simple bell; and marks o'er all Thy dewy fingers draw The gradual dusky veil.
Side 26 - ... walls I bent my way." At that dead hour the silent asp shall creep, If aught of rest I find, upon my sleep : Or some swoln serpent twist his scales around, And wake to anguish with a burning wound. Thrice happy they, the wise contented poor, From lust of wealth, and dread of death secure! They tempt no deserts, and no griefs they find ; Peace rules the day, where reason rules the mind. " Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
Side 77 - He threw his blood-stained sword, in thunder, down; And with a withering look, The war-denouncing trumpet took, And blew a blast so loud and dread, Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe...
Side 53 - How sleep the brave, who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.
Side 52 - Nigh spher'd in heaven, its native strains could hear; On which that ancient trump he reach'd was hung : Thither oft, his glory greeting, From Waller's myrtle shades retreating, With many a vow from Hope's aspiring tongue, My trembling feet his guiding steps pursue ; In vain — Such bliss to one alone, Of all the sons of soul, was known ; And Heaven, and Fancy, kindred powers, Have now o'erturn'd th' inspiring bowers; Or curtain'd close such scene from ev'ry future view.
Side 67 - Bat, With short shrill Shriek flits by on leathern Wing, Or where the Beetle winds His small but sullen Horn, As oft he rises 'midst the twilight Path, Against the Pilgrim born in heedless Hum: Now teach me, Maid compos'd, To breathe some soften'd Strain, Whose Numbers stealing thro' thy dark'ning Vale, May not unseemly with its Stillness suit, As musing slow, I hail Thy genial lov'd Return!
Side 91 - Then maids and youths shall linger here, And while its sounds at distance swell, Shall sadly seem in Pity's ear To hear the woodland pilgrim's knell. Remembrance oft shall haunt the shore When Thames in summer wreaths is drest, And oft suspend the dashing oar To bid his gentle spirit rest...
Side 109 - When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn That ten day-labourers could not end; Then lies him down the lubber fiend, And, stretched out all the chimney's length, Basks at the fire his hairy strength, And crop-full out of doors he flings, Ere the first cock his matin rings.
Side 142 - 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 69 - ... fingers draw The gradual dusky veil, While Spring shall pour his showers, as oft he wont> And bathe thy breathing tresses, meekest Eve ! While Summer loves to sport Beneath thy lingering light : While sallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves, Or 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...