Village Scenes: The Progress of Agriculture, and Other Poems

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From the Parnassian Press; for Vernor and Hood, by J. Swan, 1804 - English poetry - 138 pages
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Page 89 - As with'ring flow'rets fade in winter's iron reign. ' Friends of my youth, who bade my fortunes rise, Death's ruthless hand for ever seals your eyes, Where yonder high tow'r lifts its ivy'd head, Ye rest, reposing on your clay-cold bed: Envied retreat! - while your surviving heirs Inherit life with its ten thousand cares ! ' Fled is your long-accumulating store, Your houses, meadows, fields, are theirs no more; Where long your race manur'd and till'd the soil, With easy competence and healthful toil,...
Page 94 - Lord, let them feel thy heavier ire ; Whip them, oh Lord, with poverty ! " T. Bachelor's Village Scenes (1804) portrays the new-rich squire swelling like a frog : " With rapid strides his wide dominion spreads, E'en to the eaves of Penury's crumbling sheds, And while his friends in boundless prospect rise, Scarce views a garden with unenvious eyes.
Page 83 - Whate'er of fruits the British islands know, There bloom in spring, in fervid summer glow; And though, Britannia, climates mild as thine, Not India's spices boast, nor Gallic wine; Though here no fig, nor priz'd anana grows, Nor golden orange in thy vineyards glows ; Nor that sweet cane — the curse of many an isle, Nor gold, nor diamonds sleep beneath thy soil ; Yet thy own wealth attracts the richest stores With power magnetic to thy favour'd shores.
Page 78 - Whose humble names those decent mansions fill ? What, though nor stone, nor brick the walls sustain, Nor slate, nor tile, avert the falling rain, Content and happiness may there reside, Nor breathe one sigh for seats of costly pride. His little field th...
Page 68 - O, blest Britannia! on thy favour'd isle, The mildest suns, the softest seasons smile; Not long the breath of winter chills thy plains, Or fervid summer melts thy toiling swains, Ere genial Spring the mellow'd soil unbinds, Ere lib'ral Autumn glads thy lab
Page 57 - Unhappy man ! what language shall impart The cruel pangs that wound thy bleeding heart ? In vain he turns, with eyes of love, to trace The rose and lily blooming on her face, And sees the radiance...
Page 2 - And now, by Mem'ry's soft enchantment led, Britannia! o'er thy peaceful plains I tread. — Near the green confines of my natal dale, Emotions fond with pleasing sway prevail, Imagination through the reign of night, Soft leads where Nature first illum'd my sight, Pourtrays each scene that charm'd my infant view, And kindles all my youthful fires anew.
Page 54 - Love's tend'rest though ts still bright'ning o'er his mind, Graceful he decks her with the mystic sign, That bids their souls in endless love combine. Then leads her kind to feasts luxurious spread, Where all the graces deck their nuptial bed, Whileyouths with newblown flow' rets strew their way, And round their steps soft hymeneals play.
Page 76 - And Commerce proudly bids her gay canals Pierce through the hills and shine along the dales; While o'er her streams the waving pennant's fly, And wealthy cities meet th

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