PoemsJohn Bumpus, 1818 - 420 страница |
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Страница vii
... seems to require something new to be said respecting its admirable author ; but so much has already appeared concerning him , that the subject must inevitably be exhausted ; little more therefore re- mains for us to do , than to avail ...
... seems to require something new to be said respecting its admirable author ; but so much has already appeared concerning him , that the subject must inevitably be exhausted ; little more therefore re- mains for us to do , than to avail ...
Страница 2
... seem to think , man made for them . B. Seldom , alas ! the power of logic reigns With much sufficiency in royal brains ; Such reasoning falls like an inverted cone , Wanting its proper base to stand upon . Man made for kings ! those ...
... seem to think , man made for them . B. Seldom , alas ! the power of logic reigns With much sufficiency in royal brains ; Such reasoning falls like an inverted cone , Wanting its proper base to stand upon . Man made for kings ! those ...
Страница 3
... Seems to imply a censure on the rest . B. Quevido , as he tells his sober tale , Asked , when in hell , to see the royal jail ; Approved their method in all other things ; But where , good sir , do you confiue your kings ? There ...
... Seems to imply a censure on the rest . B. Quevido , as he tells his sober tale , Asked , when in hell , to see the royal jail ; Approved their method in all other things ; But where , good sir , do you confiue your kings ? There ...
Страница 23
... seems to suit , Psaltery and sackbut , dulcimer and flute . Oh fie ! ' tis evangelical and pure ; Observe each face how sober and demure ! Extacy sets her stamp on every mien ; Chins fallen and not an eye - ball to be seen . Still I ...
... seems to suit , Psaltery and sackbut , dulcimer and flute . Oh fie ! ' tis evangelical and pure ; Observe each face how sober and demure ! Extacy sets her stamp on every mien ; Chins fallen and not an eye - ball to be seen . Still I ...
Страница 25
... seem to threaten virtue less , Still hurtful , in th ' abuse or by th ' excess . Is man then only for his torment placed The centre of delights he may not taste ? Like fabled Tantalus , condemned to hear The precious stream still ...
... seem to threaten virtue less , Still hurtful , in th ' abuse or by th ' excess . Is man then only for his torment placed The centre of delights he may not taste ? Like fabled Tantalus , condemned to hear The precious stream still ...
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Aspasio beneath bids blest boast breath cause charms dæmons deem delight distant divine docet dream e'en earth ease eyes fair fame fancy fear feel fire flower folly frown give glory grace hand happy hast heard heart heaven honour hope hour human John Gilpin labour land light live lyre mankind mercy mind muse nature Nebaioth never night nymphs o'er once Parnassian peace perhaps pine-apples pity pleasure poet poet's praise pride prize proud prove rapture rest rude sacred scene scorn seems shade shine sighs sight skies slave smile song soon soul sound spleen stream sweet taste telescopic eye thee their's theme thine thou art thought toil tongue trembling trifler truth Twas VINCENT BOURNE Virg virtue waste Weston Underwood WILLIAM BULL WILLIAM COWPER wind wisdom wonder worth youth
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Страница 328 - I would not enter on my list of friends (Though graced with polished manners and fine sense Yet wanting sensibility) the man Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.
Страница 387 - I learned at last submission to my lot, But, though I less deplored thee, ne'er forgot. Where once we dwelt, our name is heard no more, Children not thine have trod my nursery floor...
Страница 150 - How fleet is a glance of the mind ! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there ; But alas ! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair. But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair, Even here is a season of rest, And I to my cabin repair. There's mercy in every place, And mercy, encouraging thought ! Gives even affliction a grace,...
Страница 387 - All this, and more endearing still than all, Thy constant flow of love, that knew no fall, Ne'er roughened by those cataracts and breaks That humour interposed too often makes; All this still legible in memory's page, And still to be so to my latest age, Adds joy to duty, makes me glad to pay Such honours to thee as my numbers may; Perhaps a frail memorial, but sincere, Not scorned in heaven, though little noticed here.
Страница 387 - Tis now become a history little known, That once we called the pastoral house our own. Short-lived possession ! but the record fair, That memory keeps of all thy kindness there, Still outlives many a storm, that has effaced A thousand other themes less deeply traced.
Страница 317 - Knowledge dwells In heads replete with thoughts of other men, Wisdom in minds attentive to their own. Knowledge, a rude unprofitable mass, The mere materials with which wisdom builds, Till smoothed and squared and fitted to its place, Does but encumber whom it seems to enrich.
Страница 43 - Just knows, and knows no more, her Bible true A. truth the brilliant Frenchman never knew ; And in that charter reads with sparkling eyes Her title to a treasure in the skies.
Страница 388 - Shoots into port at some well-havened isle, Where spices breathe and brighter seasons smile, There sits quiescent on the floods, that show Her beauteous form reflected clear below, While airs impregnated with incense play Around her, fanning light her streamers gay; So thou, with sails how swift! hast reached the shore ' Where tempests never beat nor billows roar;' And thy loved consort on the dangerous tide Of life, long since has anchored at thy side.
Страница 384 - WHEN the British warrior queen, Bleeding from the Roman rods, Sought, with' an indignant mien, Counsel of her country's gods, Sage beneath the spreading oak Sat the Druid, hoary chief; Every burning word he spoke Full of rage and full of grief.
Страница 196 - Were shattered at a blow. Down ran the wine into the road, Most piteous to be seen, Which made his horse's flanks to smoke As they had basted been. But still he seemed to carry weight, With leathern girdle braced; For all might see the bottle-necks Still dangling at his waist.