Elliott's Poems: The village patriarch, Love, and other poemsB. Steill, 1834 |
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
Elliott's Poems: The village patriarch, Love, and other poems Ebenezer Elliott Visualització completa - 1834 |
Elliott's Poems: The village patriarch, Love, and other poems Ebenezer Elliott Visualització completa - 1834 |
Frases i termes més freqüents
art thou beauty Behold bends beneath blast bless'd blind bosom bow'd breast bright Briton brow cheek child cloud cold corn-laws corncrake cottage curse dark death deeds despair dread dream dust E'en earth England Enoch Wray eternal eternal grace fall'n fate fear feel fire flowers flowers of Eden gaze gloom gorse grave grief hand hast hate hath hear heart Heav'n hope hopeless horror humble labour light lips living lone look'd Lord lov'd Love's lyre Mangora moorland morn mountains mourn mute Nature's ne'er night o'er pain pale pauper poison'd poor pride proud rill rocks rose Saint Peter scorn seem'd Senena sigh sightless silent slaves sleep smile snow sorrow soul storm sweet tears tell thee thine thou art thought tomb trembled VILLAGE PATRIARCH voice wave weep wept wild William Waller Wincobank wind-flower wing Workhouse worm wretch
Passatges populars
Pàgina 61 - Behold his failings ! Hath he virtues too ? He is no Pauper, blackguard though he be: Full well he knows what minds combined can do. Full well maintains his birthright : he is free. And, frown for frown, outstares monopoly. Yet Abraham and Elliot both in vain Bid science on his cheek prolong the bloom : He will not live! He seems in haste to gain The undisturb'd asylum of the tomb, And, old at two-and-thirty, meets his doom! Or this, " of Jem, the rogue avowed,
Pàgina 275 - It was then considered as the extinction of a virulent and implacable enemy ; it is now viewed as the fall of a great warrior, a penetrating statesman, and a mighty prince. It then excited universal joy and congratulation, as a prelude to the close of a merciless war ; it now awakens sober reflections on the instability of empire, the peculiar destiny of the aboriginal race, and the inscrutable decrees of Heaven.
Pàgina 278 - The curse of the Lord is in the house of the wicked: but he blesseth the habitation of the just.
Pàgina 114 - The meanest thing to which we bid adieu, Loses its meanness in the parting hour. When, long-neglected, worth seems born anew, The heart, that scorns earth's pageantry and power, May melt in tears, or break, to quit a flower. Thus, Enoch — like a wretch, prepar'd to fly, And doom'd to journey far, and come no more — Seeks old acquaintance with a boding sigh.
Pàgina 136 - The unutterable Deep that hath no shore, Will lose their starry splendour soon or late, Like tapers, quench'd by Him, whose will is fate! Yes, and the Angel of Eternity, Who numbers worlds and writes their names in light, One day, O Earth, will look in vain for thee. And start and stop in his unerring flight, And with his wings of sorrow and affright Veil his impassion'd brow and heavenly tears I And not the first idea only, but the greatest, properly the parent of all others.
Pàgina 166 - O faithful Love, by Poverty embraced ! Thy heart is fire, amid a wintry waste ; Thy joys are roses, born on Hecla's brow ; Thy home is Eden, warm amid the snow ; And she, thy mate, when coldest blows the storm, Clings then most fondly to thy guardian form ; E'en as thy taper gives intensest light, When o'er thy bow'd roof darkest falls the night. Oh, if thou e'er hast...
Pàgina 59 - Flowers peep, trees bud, boughs tremble, rivers run ; The redwing saith, it is a glorious morn. Blue are thy Heavens, thou Highest ! and thy sun Shines without cloud, all fire. How sweetly, borne On wings of morning o'er the leafless thorn, The tiny wren's small twitter warbles near ! How swiftly flashes in the stream the trout ! Woodbine ! our father's ever-watchful ear Knows, by thy rustle, that thy leaves are out.
Pàgina 60 - On tawny sands, through regions passion-wild, And groves of love, in jealous beauty dark, Complains the Porter, Nature's thwarted child, Born in the waste, like headlong Wiming? Hark ! The poised hawk calls thee, Village Patriarch ! He calls thee to his mountains ! Up, away ! Up, up, to Stanedge ! higher still ascend, Till kindred rivers, from the summit...
Pàgina 66 - ... roll'd away. The son, to manhood grown, Married his equal; and a boy was born, Dear to the grandsire's heart. But pride and scorn, And avarice, fang'd the mother's small grey eyes, That dully shone, like studs of tarnish'd lead. She poison'd soon her husband's mind with lies; Soon nought remain'd to cheer the old man's shed, Save the sweet boy, that nightly shar'd his bed.
Pàgina 60 - Dash.d in white foam the swift circumference o'er There draws the Grinder his laborious breath; There coughing at his deadly trade he bends: Born to die young, he fears nor man nor death; Scorning the future, what he earns he spends; Debauch and riot are his bosom friends.