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beams beneath bids blasphemy blessings blest bliss boast breast breath charms courser dark dear declension deeds deist delight divine docet dream earth Edmonton eyes fair fancy fear feel fire FLEET STREET folly fools frown Gilpin give glory God's grace Greece hallowed ground hand happy hast hear heart heaven heavenly honour hope hour JOHN GILPIN joys land learned light lust lyre mankind mercy mind muse nature never night NOSEGAY once pain peace Pharisee pine-apples pity plain pleasure poet poet's poor praise pride prize prove Rome rude sacred scene scorn scripture shine Sighs sight skies slave smile song soon sorrow soul sound stand stream sweet tarn taste teach telescopic eye thee their's theme thine thou thought toil tongue trifler truth Twas VINCENT BOURNE virtue waste wild wisdom woes wrong youth zeal
Page 423 - Until he came unto the Wash Of Edmonton so gay; And there he threw the Wash about On both sides of the way, Just like unto a trundling mop, Or a wild goose at play. At Edmonton his loving wife From the balcony spied Her tender husband, wondering much To see how he did ride. "Stop, stop, John Gilpin!— Here's the house !" They all at once did cry; "The dinner waits, and we are tired;"— Said Gilpin, "So am I!
Page 417 - For saddle-tree scarce reached had he, His journey to begin, When, turning round his head, he saw Three customers come in. So down he came; for loss of time, Although it grieved him sore, Yet loss of pence, full well he knew. Would trouble him much more. 'Twas long before the customers Were suited to their mind, When Betty screaming came down stairs, 'The wine is left behind!' ' Good lack,' quoth he — ' yet bring it me, My leathern belt likewise, In which I bear my trusty sword, When I do exercise.
Page 419 - So, Fair and softly ! John he cried ; But John he cried in vain, That trot became a gallop soon, In spite of curb and rein.
Page 298 - Tis easy to resign a toilsome place, But not to manage leisure with a grace; Absence of occupation is not rest, A mind quite vacant, is a mind distress'd.
Page 322 - Ye winds ! that have made me your sport, Convey to this desolate shore Some cordial endearing report Of a land I shall visit no more. My friends, do they now and then send A wish or a thought after me ? Oh, tell me I yet have a friend, Though a friend I am never to see.
Page 431 - The path of sorrow, and that path alone, Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown : No traveller ever reached that blest abode, Who found not thorns and briars in his road.
Page 304 - a friend in my retreat, Whom I may whisper solitude is sweet.
Page 375 - All sustain'd by patience, taught us Only by a broken heart! / Deem our nation brutes no longer, Till some reason ye shall find Worthier of regard, and stronger Than the colour of our kind. Slaves of gold, whose sordid dealings Tarnish all your boasted powers, Prove that you have human feelings, Ere you proudly question ours ! PITY FOR POOR AFRICANS.
Page 320 - I AM monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute ; From the centre all round to the sea I am lord of the fowl and the brute.