Various Poems: The Wanderer, a Moral Poem. The Triumph of Mirth and Health. And The Bastard. By the Late Richard Savage, Esq. To which is Prefixed a Preface, Giving Some Account of Them
J. Turner, 1761 - 115 страница
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appears Arms Arts behold beneath Breaſt Breath bright Charms claim Clouds Court cries dear Death divine ev'ry Eyes fair fall Fame Fancy Fate Fear feel Fires firſt Flame flow Form Friend give Glory glow Goddeſs Grace green Grief Hand Health Heart Heav'n Hence Honour Hope Hours inſpire kind Kings laſt Lays leave Light live loft Look Love mark Mind Muſe muſt Name Nature Night o'er once Pain pale Peace Place Plains Points Pow'r Praiſe Pride Rays riſe Rocks roll round Scene ſee Senates Shade ſhall ſhe ſhine Smile ſmiling ſoft ſome Soul Spirits ſpread Spring ſtands ſtill ſweet ſwell taught Tears tender thee theſe thine thoſe thou Thought thro trembling Truth turn vain Virtue Voice Want warm weep whoſe wild Wind Wings World Worth write Youth
Страница 9 - But o'er the twilight groves and dusky caves, Long-sounding aisles, and intermingled graves, Black Melancholy sits, and round her throws A death-like silence., and a dread repose: Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene, Shades ev'ry flow'r, and darkens ev'ry green, Deepens the murmur of the falling floods, And breathes a browner horror on the woods.
Страница 9 - The darksome pines, that o'er yon rocks reclin'd, Wave high, and murmur to the hollow wind, The wandering streams that shine between the hills, The grots that echo to the tinkling rills, The dying gales that pant upon the trees, The lakes that quiver to the curling breeze...
Страница 6 - Curse on all laws but those which love has made ! Love, free as air, at sight of human ties Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies.
Страница 14 - Nor share one pang of all I felt for thee. Thy oaths I quit, thy memory resign; Forget, renounce me, hate whate'er was mine. Fair eyes, and tempting looks (which yet I view!) Long lov'd, ador'd ideas!
Страница 11 - But let heav'n seize it, all at once 'tis fir'd; Not touch'd, but rapt; not waken'd, but inspir'd! Oh come! oh teach me nature to subdue, Renounce my love, my life, myself — and you. Fill my fond heart with God alone, for he Alone can rival, can succeed to thee.
Страница 4 - Relentless walls ! whose darksome round contains Repentant sighs, and voluntary pains: Ye rugged rocks! which holy knees have worn; Ye grots and caverns shagg'd with horrid thorn! Shrines! where their vigils pale-ey'd virgins keep, And pitying saints, whose statues learn to weep! Tho' cold like you, unmov'd and silent grown, I have not yet forgot myself to stone.
Страница 7 - Ev'n thought meets thought, ere from the lips it part, And each warm wish springs mutual from the heart. This sure is bliss (if bliss on earth there be) And once the lot of Abelard and me.
Страница 7 - Not grace, or zeal, love only was my call, And if I lose thy love, I lose my all.