The Minor Poems of William Cowper of the Inner TempleJ. Sharpe, 1818 - 216 sider |
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Side 13
... heard thee last . Those lips are thine - thy own sweet smile I see , The same that oft in childhood solaced me ; Voice only fails , else how distinct they say , ' Grieve not , my child , chase all thy fears away ! ' The meek ...
... heard thee last . Those lips are thine - thy own sweet smile I see , The same that oft in childhood solaced me ; Voice only fails , else how distinct they say , ' Grieve not , my child , chase all thy fears away ! ' The meek ...
Side 14
... heard the bell toll'd on thy burial day , I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away , And , turning from my nursery window , drew A long , long sigh , and wept a last adieu ! But was it such ? It was - where thou art gone Adieus and ...
... heard the bell toll'd on thy burial day , I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away , And , turning from my nursery window , drew A long , long sigh , and wept a last adieu ! But was it such ? It was - where thou art gone Adieus and ...
Side 38
... . The charms of the late - blowing rose Seem graced with a livelier hue , And the winter of sorrow best shows The truth of a friend such as you . TO THE NIGHTINGALE . WHICH THE AUTHOR HEARD SING ON 38 The Winter Nosegay.
... . The charms of the late - blowing rose Seem graced with a livelier hue , And the winter of sorrow best shows The truth of a friend such as you . TO THE NIGHTINGALE . WHICH THE AUTHOR HEARD SING ON 38 The Winter Nosegay.
Side 39
William Cowper. TO THE NIGHTINGALE . WHICH THE AUTHOR HEARD SING ON NEW YEAR'S DAY , 1792 . WHENCE is it , that amazed I hear From yonder wither'd spray , This foremost morn of all the year , The melody of May ? And why , since thousands ...
William Cowper. TO THE NIGHTINGALE . WHICH THE AUTHOR HEARD SING ON NEW YEAR'S DAY , 1792 . WHENCE is it , that amazed I hear From yonder wither'd spray , This foremost morn of all the year , The melody of May ? And why , since thousands ...
Side 48
... delivers in the ears ( Attentive when thou read'st ) of England's peers , Let verse at length yield thee thy just reward . Thou wast not heard with drowsy disregard , Expending late 48 Sonnet to William Wilberforce, Esq.
... delivers in the ears ( Attentive when thou read'st ) of England's peers , Let verse at length yield thee thy just reward . Thou wast not heard with drowsy disregard , Expending late 48 Sonnet to William Wilberforce, Esq.
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The Minor Poems of William Cowper of the Inner Temple, Volumer 1-2 William Cowper Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1818 |
The Minor Poems of William Cowper: Of the Inner Temple, Esq William Cowper Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1817 |
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
ALEXANDEr selkirk Aspasio beneath bestow'd bird boast BODHAM bosom call'd Catharina charms COWPER cried dæmons dear death declension delight design'd divine dream dwell e'en earth Edmonton express'd eyes fear feel flew flowers form'd friendship GEORGE ROMNEY Gilpin grace grief hear heard heart Heaven honour John Gilpin JOHN SHARPE JOSEPH HILL knew LADY learn'd length life's light live Mary mind MINOR POEMS Muses ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er once pass'd peace perhaps pine-apples pleasure poet poet's PORTBURY praise prove rest RICHARD WESTALL rose scene seem'd shine shore side sight sing skies smile song SONNET soon sorrow soul sound Stamp'd storm sweet tear tell thee theme thine Thou hast thought THRACIAN Throckmorton toil treasure truth Twas verse voice waste Whate'er WILLIAM COWPER WILLIAM HAYLEY wind wish wonder youth
Populære avsnitt
Side 91 - Away went hat and wig; He little dreamt when he set out, Of running such a rig. The wind did blow, the cloak did fly, Like streamer long and gay, Till, loop and button failing both, At last it flew away. Then might all people well discern The bottles he had slung ; A bottle swinging at each side, As hath been said or sung. The dogs did bark, the children screamed, Up flew the windows all; And every soul cried out, Well done!
Side 54 - 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!
Side 17 - My boast is not that I deduce my birth From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth ; But higher far my proud pretensions rise — The son of parents passed into the skies.
Side 92 - Were shatter'd 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...
Side 16 - 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 by thy side.
Side 93 - Ah ! luckless speech and bootless boast ! For which he paid full dear ; For, while he spake, a braying ass Did sing most loud and clear. Whereat his horse did snort, as he Had heard a lion roar, And gallop'd off with all his might, As he had done before.
Side 15 - Thy nightly visits to my chamber made, That thou mightst know me safe and warmly laid...
Side 90 - His long red cloak, well brush'd and neat, He manfully did throw. Now see him mounted once again Upon his nimble steed, Full slowly pacing o'er the stones, With caution and good heed. But finding soon a smoother road Beneath his well-shod feet, The snorting beast began to trot, Which gall'd him in his seat. So,
Side 36 - He spied far off, upon the ground, A something shining in the dark, And knew the glow-worm by his spark; So, stooping down from hawthorn top, He thought to put him in his crop. The worm, aware of his intent, Harangued him thus, right eloquent — Did you admire my lamp...
Side 53 - Twas my distress that brought thee low, My Mary! Thy needles, once a shining store, For my sake restless heretofore, Now rust disused, and shine no more ; My Mary...