beauteous beauty beneath Bertram BIRTHA bleffings bleft blifs blissful band blooming bofom bower breaſt bright Brinkburn Priory charms David Garrick dear Ev'n ev'ry facred fafe faid fair fame fate fcene fear feek feen fhade fhall fhore fhould figh filent filk filver fimple fire firft fkies fleep flowers fmile foft fome fond fong foon footh forrow foul fpirit fpread fpring ftands fteps ftill ftrain ftranger ftream fuch funk fwain fweet gentle grace grief grove hand heart heaven Hermit hour laft loft Lord lov'd lyre maid mind Mufe Nature's ne'er night Northumberland o'er paft pale PERCY pleaſure pow'r praiſe pride raiſe reft rife rocks rofe round ſhall ſhe ſkies ſmile tale tear thee thefe theſe thine thofe thoſe thou thro truth Twas vale vex'd virtue Warkworth waves weep whofe wonder youth
Pàgina 231 - THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Pàgina 189 - To new-found worlds, and wept for others' woe ; But for himself, in conscious virtue brave, He only wish'd for worlds beyond the grave. His lovely daughter, lovelier in her tears, The fond companion of his helpless years, Silent went next, neglectful of her charms, And left a lover's for a father's arms.
Pàgina 185 - The village master taught his little school; A man severe he was and stern to view, I knew him well, and every truant knew; Well had the boding tremblers...
Pàgina 201 - Though equal to all things, for all things unfit; Too nice for a statesman, too proud for a wit; For a patriot, too cool; for a drudge, disobedient; And too fond of the right to pursue the expedient. In short, 'twas his fate, unemploy'd or in place, sir, To eat mutton cold, and cut blocks with a razor.
Pàgina 203 - And coxcombs, alike in their failings alone, Adopting his portraits, are pleas'd with their own. Say, where has our poet this malady caught ? Or wherefore his characters thus without fault ? Say, was it that vainly directing his view To find out men's virtues, and finding them few, Quite sick of pursuing each troublesome elf, He grew lazy at last, and drew from himself.
Pàgina 179 - How often have I blest the coming day, When toil remitting lent its turn to play, And all the village train, from labour free, Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree...
Pàgina 235 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath and near his favourite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; 'The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou can'st read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Pàgina 184 - At church, with meek and unaffected grace, His looks adorn'd the venerable place ; Truth from his lips prevail'd with double sway, And fools, who came to scoff, remain'd to pray.