Rays of genius, collected to enlighten the rising generation, by T. Tomkins

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Thomas Tomkins
1806
 

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Pàgina 54 - To hear the lark begin his flight, And, singing, startle the dull night, From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn doth rise...
Pàgina 57 - And ever, against eating cares, Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse, Such as the meeting soul may pierce, In notes with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out With wanton heed and giddy cunning, The melting voice through mazes running, Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony; That Orpheus...
Pàgina 99 - Air, and ye elements, the eldest birth Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run Perpetual circle multiform, and mix And nourish all things, let your ceaseless change Vary to our great Maker still new praise.
Pàgina 56 - Rain influence, and judge the prize Of wit or arms, while both contend To win her grace, whom all commend. There let Hymen oft appear In saffron robe, with taper clear, And pomp, and feast, and revelry, With mask, and antique pageantry; Such sights as youthful poets dream On summer eves by haunted stream...
Pàgina 53 - HENCE, loathed Melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born In Stygian cave forlorn 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy! Find out some uncouth cell, Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings, And the night-raven sings; There, under ebon shades and low-browed rocks, As ragged as thy locks, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.
Pàgina 56 - 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.
Pàgina 246 - Ah! little think the gay licentious proud, Whom pleasure, power, and affluence surround— They who their thoughtless hours in giddy mirth, And wanton, often cruel, riot waste—• Ah! little think they, while they dance along, How many feel, this very moment, death And all the sad variety of pain...
Pàgina 233 - With charm of earliest Birds ; pleasant the Sun When first on this delightful Land he spreads His orient Beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower...
Pàgina 195 - Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude ; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude.
Pàgina 128 - He that has light within his own clear breast, May sit i' the centre and enjoy bright day : But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts, Benighted walks under the mid-day sun ; Himself is his own dungeon.

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