Sonnets, and Other Poems,

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T. Cadell, jun. and W. Davies, Strand, and J. Mawman, Poultry, London; and R. Cruttwell, Bath., 1800 - 180 страница
 

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Страница 176 - Though thy clime Be fickle, and thy year, most part, deform'd With dripping rains, or withered by a frost, I would not yet exchange thy sullen skies, And fields without a flower, for warmer France With all her vines ; nor for Ausonia's groves Of golden fruitage, and her myrtle bowers.
Страница 18 - Time ! who know'st a lenient hand to lay Softest on sorrow's wound, and slowly thence, Lulling to sad repose the weary sense, The faint pang stealest unperceived away; On thee I rest my only hope at last...
Страница 179 - Brief as the lightning in the collied night, That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth. And ere a man hath power to say, — Behold ! The jaws of darkness do devour it up : So quick bright things come to confusion.
Страница 163 - How soft the music of those village bells, Falling at intervals upon the ear In cadence sweet, now dying all away, Now pealing loud again, and louder still, Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on ! With easy force it opens all the cells Where Memory slept.
Страница 179 - Ah me ! for aught that ever I could read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth: But, cither it was different in blood ; Her.
Страница 13 - Uplift their shadowing heads, and, at their feet, Scarce hear the surge that has for ages beat, Sure many a lonely wanderer has stood, And, whilst the lifted murmur met his ear, And o'er the distant billows the still Eve Sailed slow, has thought of all his heart must leave Tomorrow...
Страница 176 - To shake thy senate, and from heights sublime Of patriot eloquence to flash down fire Upon thy foes, was never meant my task : But I can feel thy fortunes, and partake Thy joys and sorrows, with as true a heart As any thund'rer there.
Страница 15 - How sweet the tuneful bells responsive peal ! As when, at opening morn, the fragrant breeze Breathes on the trembling sense of wan disease, So piercing to my heart their force I feel ! And hark ! with lessening cadence now they fall, And now along the white and level tide They fling their melancholy music wide, Bidding me many a tender thought recall Of summer days, and those delightful years, When by my native streams...
Страница 137 - twas wild. But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair, What was thy delighted measure ? Still it whisper'd promised pleasure, And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail...
Страница 34 - I NEVER hear the sound of thy glad bells, Oxford, and chime harmonious, but I say, Sighing to think how time has worn away, Some spirit speaks in the sweet tone that swells, Heard after years of absence, from the vale Where Cherwell winds.

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