Poems (Google eBook)

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Page 51 - But happy they ! the happiest of their kind ! Whom gentler stars unite, and in one fate Their hearts, their fortunes, and their beings blend. 'Tis not the coarser tie of human laws, Unnatural oft and foreign to the mind, That binds their peace, but harmony itself, Attuning all their passions into love ; Where Friendship...
Page 16 - Ah little think they, while they dance along, How many feel, this very moment, death And all the sad variety of pain.
Page 17 - How many feel, this very moment, death And all the sad variety of pain. How many sink in the devouring flood, Or more devouring flame. How many bleed, By shameful variance betwixt man and man. How many pine in want, and dungeon glooms; Shut from the common air, and common use Of their own limbs.
Page 29 - Superior heard, run through the sweetest length Of notes; when listening Philomela deigns To let them joy, and purposes, in thought Elate, to make her night excel their day. The blackbird whistles from the thorny brake; The mellow bullfinch answers from the grove; Nor are the linnets, o'er the flowering furze Pour'd out profusely, silent.
Page 7 - The unsightly plain Lies a brown deluge; as the low-bent clouds Pour flood on flood, yet unexhausted still Combine, and, deepening into night, shut up The day's fair face. The wanderers of heaven, Each to his home, retire; save those that love To take their pastime in the troubled air, Or skimming flutter round the dimply pool. The cattle from the untasted fields return And ask, with meaning low, their wonted stalls, Or ruminate in the contiguous shade.
Page 15 - Of horrid prospect, shag the trackless plain: Nor finds the river, nor the forest, hid Beneath the formless wild; but wanders on From hill to dale, still more and more astray; Impatient flouncing through the drifted heaps, Stung with the thoughts of home; the thoughts of home Rush on his nerves, and call their vigour forth In many a vain attempt.
Page 34 - Her sorrows through the night; and, on the bough, Sole-sitting, still at every dying fall Takes up again her lamentable strain Of winding woe; till, wide around, the woods Sigh to her song, and with her wail resound.
Page 29 - An icy gale, oft shifting, o'er the pool Breathes a blue film, and in its mid career Arrests the bickering stream.
Page 41 - As home he goes beneath the joyous moon. Ye that keep watch in heaven, as earth asleep Unconscious lies, effuse your mildest beams, Ye Constellations, while your angels strike, Amid the spangled sky, the silver lyre. Great Source of day, best image here below Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide, From world to world, the vital ocean round, On Nature write with every beam his praise.
Page 14 - Now, shepherds, to your helpless charge be kind, Baffle the raging year, and fill their pens With food at will; lodge them below the storm, And watch them strict : for from the bellowing east, In this dire season, oft the whirlwind's wing Sweeps up the burden of whole wintry plains At one wide waft, and o•er the hapless flocks, Hid in the hollow of two neighbouring hills, The billowy tempest whelms...

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