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Page 87 - The current, that with gentle murmur glides, Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage; But, when his fair course is not hindered, He makes sweet music with the enamell'd stones, Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge He overtaketh in his pilgrimage, And so by many winding nooks he strays, With willing sport, to- the wild ocean.
Page 144 - There sometimes doth a leaping fish Send through the tarn a lonely cheer; The crags repeat the raven's croak, In symphony austere ; Thither the rainbow comes — the cloud — • And mists that spread the flying shroud ; And sunbeams ; and the sounding blast, That, if it could, would hurry past; But that enormous barrier binds it fast.
Page 84 - And though this, probably the first essay of his poetry be lost, yet it is said to have been so very bitter that it redoubled the prosecution against him to that degree, that he was...
Page 84 - In this kind of settlement he continued for : some time, till an extravagance that he was guilty of, forced him both out of his country, and that way of living which he had taken up...
Page 16 - I know a merchant-man which shall at this time be nameless, that bought the contents of two noble libraries for forty shillings...
Page 80 - The house is shown by a garrulous old lady, in a frosty red face, lighted up by a cold blue anxious eye, and garnished with artificial locks of flaxen hair, curling from under an exceedingly dirty cap. She was peculiarly assiduous in exhibiting the relics with which this, like all other celebrated shrines, abounds.
Page xxi - He has commonly a broad full face, curiously mottled with red, as if the blood had been forced by hard feeding into every vessel of the skin...
Page xxii - We should as soon expect the people of Woolwich to suffer themselves to be fired off upon one of Congreve's ricochet rockets, as trust themselves to the mercy of such a machine going at such a rate.
Page 140 - IT is the soul that sees; the outward eyes Present the object, but the mind descries; And thence delight, disgust, or cool indiffrence rise: When minds are joyful, then we look around, And what is seen is all on fairy ground; Again they sicken, and on every view Cast their own dull and melancholy hue; Or, if...