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The Wreath: A Collection of Poems from Celebrated English Authors
Visualització completa - 1824
arms beauty beneath blood bloom bosom breast breath bright calm charms cheer close clouds dark dead Death deep delight dread earth eyes face fair fall fame fancy fate fear fire flame gentle give grace grave groves hand head hear heard heart Heaven hill hope hour kind land light live lonely look mind morn mourn Muse nature Nature's never night o'er once pain peace pity plain pleasure poor praise pride rage rest rise round scene shade shore skies sleep smile soft song sons soon soul sound spread spring strain stream sweet tears thee thine things thou thought thousand toil trembling turn vale virtue voice wandering wave wealth wild wind wings woods wretch youth
Pàgina 12 - 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.
Pàgina 180 - 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.
Pàgina 189 - 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...
Pàgina 226 - I care not, fortune, what you me deny : You cannot rob me of free nature's grace ; You cannot shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shows her brightening face ; You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And I their toys to the great children leave : Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave.
Pàgina 185 - Thus every good his native wilds impart, Imprints the patriot passion on his heart ; And e'en those ills that round his mansion rise, Enhance the bliss his scanty fund supplies. Dear is that shed to which his soul conforms, And dear that hill which lifts him to the storms ; And as a child, when scaring sounds molest, Clings close and closer to the mother's breast, So the loud torrent, and the whirlwind's roar, But bind him to his native mountains more.
Pàgina 185 - That first excites desire, and then supplies ; Unknown to them, when sensual pleasures cloy, To fill the languid pause with finer joy ; Unknown those powers that raise the soul to flame, Catch every nerve, and vibrate through the frame. Their level life is but a...
Pàgina 192 - In every government, though terrors reign, Though tyrant kings or tyrant laws restrain, How small, of all that human hearts endure, That part which laws or kings can cause or cure...
Pàgina 166 - Works in the secret deep ; shoots, steaming, thence The fair profusion that o'erspreads the spring ; Flings from the sun direct the flaming day; Feeds every creature; hurls the tempest forth ; And, as on earth this grateful change revolves, With transport touches all the springs of life.
Pàgina 165 - Shoots full perfection through the swelling year; And oft thy voice in dreadful thunder speaks: And oft at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve, By brooks and groves, in hollow-whispering gales. Thy bounty shines in Autumn unconfined, And spreads a common feast for all that lives. In Winter awful thou ! with clouds and storms Around thee thrown, tempest o'er tempest roll'd, Majestic darkness! on the whirlwind's wing ' Riding sublime, thou bid'st the world adore, And humblest nature with thy northern blast.