The Minor Poems of William Cowper of the Inner TempleJ. Sharpe, 1818 - 216 страница |
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Страница 10
... Delight in agitation , yet sustain , The force , that agitates , not unimpair'd ; But , worn by frequent impulse , to the cause Of their best tone their dissolution owe . Thought cannot spend itself , comparing still The great and ...
... Delight in agitation , yet sustain , The force , that agitates , not unimpair'd ; But , worn by frequent impulse , to the cause Of their best tone their dissolution owe . Thought cannot spend itself , comparing still The great and ...
Страница 14
... Where once we dwelt our name is heard no more , Children not thine have trod my nursery floor ; And where the gardener Robin , day by day , Drew me to school along the public way , Delighted with my bauble coach , and wrapp'd In scarlet 14.
... Where once we dwelt our name is heard no more , Children not thine have trod my nursery floor ; And where the gardener Robin , day by day , Drew me to school along the public way , Delighted with my bauble coach , and wrapp'd In scarlet 14.
Страница 15
William Cowper. Delighted with my bauble coach , and wrapp'd In scarlet mantle warm , and velvet cap , " Tis now become a history little known , That once we call'd the pastoral house our own . Short - lived possession ! but the record ...
William Cowper. Delighted with my bauble coach , and wrapp'd In scarlet mantle warm , and velvet cap , " Tis now become a history little known , That once we call'd the pastoral house our own . Short - lived possession ! but the record ...
Страница 16
... delight Seems so to be desired , perhaps I might.- But no - what here we call our life is such , So little to be loved , and thou so much , That I should ill requite thee to constrain Thy unbound spirit into bonds again . Thou , as a ...
... delight Seems so to be desired , perhaps I might.- But no - what here we call our life is such , So little to be loved , and thou so much , That I should ill requite thee to constrain Thy unbound spirit into bonds again . Thou , as a ...
Страница 23
... divide The closest knot that may be tied , By ceaseless sharp corrosion ; A temper passionate and fierce , May suddenly your joys disperse At one immense explosion . In vain the talkative unite In hopes of permanent delight— 23.
... divide The closest knot that may be tied , By ceaseless sharp corrosion ; A temper passionate and fierce , May suddenly your joys disperse At one immense explosion . In vain the talkative unite In hopes of permanent delight— 23.
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ALEXANDEr selkirk Aspasio beneath bird boast bosom calender call'd Catharina charms COWPER cried dæmons dear death declension delight design'd divine dream dwell e'en earth Edmonton eyes fear feel flew flowers form'd friendship GEORGE ROMNEY Gilpin grace grief hear heard heart Heaven honour horse John Gilpin JOHN SHARPE JOSEPH HILL knew LADY learn'd length life's light live Mary mind MINOR POEMS Muses ne'er neighbour never night numbers nymph o'er once pass'd peace perhaps pine-apples pleasure poet poet's PORTBURY praise prove rest RICHARD WESTALL rose scene seem'd shine shore side sight sing skies smile song SONNET soon sorrow soul sound Stamp'd storm sweet tear tell thee theme thine Thou hast thought THRACIAN Throckmorton toil treasure truth Twas verse voice waste Whate'er WILLIAM COWPER WILLIAM HAYLEY wind wish wonder youth
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Страница 91 - Away went hat and wig; He little dreamt when he set out, Of running such a rig. The wind did blow, the cloak did fly, Like streamer long and gay, Till, loop and button failing both, At last it flew away. Then might all people well discern The bottles he had slung ; A bottle swinging at each side, As hath been said or sung. The dogs did bark, the children screamed, Up flew the windows all; And every soul cried out, Well done!
Страница 54 - Thy silver locks, once auburn bright, Are still more lovely in my sight Than golden beams of orient light, My Mary ! For, could I view nor them nor thee, What sight worth seeing could I see ? The sun would rise in vain for me, My Mary ! Partakers of thy sad decline, Thy hands their little force resign ; Yet gently prest, press gently mine, My Mary!
Страница 17 - My boast is not that I deduce my birth From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth ; But higher far my proud pretensions rise — The son of parents passed into the skies.
Страница 92 - Were shatter'd 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...
Страница 16 - 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 by thy side.
Страница 95 - Ah ! luckless speech and bootless boast ! For which he paid full dear ; For, while he spake, a braying ass Did sing most loud and clear. Whereat his horse did snort, as he Had heard a lion roar, And gallop'd off with all his might, As he had done before.
Страница 15 - Thy nightly visits to my chamber made, That thou mightst know me safe and warmly laid...
Страница 90 - His long red cloak, well brush'd and neat, He manfully did throw. Now see him mounted once again Upon his nimble steed, Full slowly pacing o'er the stones, With caution and good heed. But finding soon a smoother road Beneath his well-shod feet, The snorting beast began to trot, Which gall'd him in his seat. So,
Страница 36 - He spied far off, upon the ground, A something shining in the dark, And knew the glow-worm by his spark; So, stooping down from hawthorn top, He thought to put him in his crop. The worm, aware of his intent, Harangued him thus, right eloquent — Did you admire my lamp...
Страница 53 - Twas my distress that brought thee low, My Mary! Thy needles, once a shining store, For my sake restless heretofore, Now rust disused, and shine no more ; My Mary...