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appears beautiful become believe better body breath bright called character comes dark dead death delight doubt earth effect eyes face fair fall fear feeling feet flowers genius give green hand happy head hear heard heart heaven hills hold hope hour human imagination keep kind knowledge lady least less light living look means miles mind moral morning nature never night object once ourselves passed passion perhaps person poem poet poetry poor present pure reader reason religion rise round seems seen side single smile soul speak spirit stand sweet tears things thou thought tion touch true truth turn virtue voice walk whole young youth
Page 203 - With mazy error under pendent shades Ran Nectar, visiting each plant, and fed Flowers worthy of Paradise, which not nice art In beds and curious knots, but nature boon Pour'd forth profuse on hill, and dale, and plain...
Page 79 - AWAKE, my St. John ! leave all meaner things To low ambition and the pride of kings. Let us (since life can little more supply Than just to look about us, and to die) Expatiate free o'er all this scene of man ; A mighty maze ! but not without a plan : A wild, where weeds and flowers promiscuous shoot; Or garden, tempting with forbidden fruit.
Page 396 - So still an image of tranquillity, So calm and still, and looked so beautiful Amid the uneasy thoughts which filled my mind, That what we feel of sorrow and despair From ruin and from change, and all the grief The passing shows of Being leave behind, Appeared an idle dream, that could not live Where meditation was. I turned away, And walked along my road in happiness.
Page 270 - I saw her upon nearer view A spirit, yet a woman too ! Her household motions light and free, And steps of virgin liberty ; A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet ; A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food : For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
Page 132 - Oh that I had the wings of a dove, that I might flee away and be at rest;" for I felt that there could be no rest for me in the midst of such outrages and pollutions.
Page 397 - Farewell, farewell the heart that lives alone, Housed in a dream, at distance from the kind ! Such happiness, wherever it be known, Is to be pitied ; for 'tis surely blind. But welcome fortitude, and patient cheer, And frequent sights of what is to be borne ! Such sights, or worse, as are before me here. — Not without hope we suffer and we mourn.