The Works of Mrs. Elizabeth Rowe: Miscellaneous poems & translations. Hymns, odes & psalms. Devout soliloquies. A paraphrase on canticles. The history of Joseph

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Page 109 - Thro' some blest vale, or ever-verdant grove; One moment listen to my grief, and take The softest vows that constant love can make. FOR thee all thoughts of pleasure I forego, For thee my tears shall never cease to flow; For thee at once I from the world retire, To feed, in silent shades, a hopeless fire.
Page 5 - In some obscure retreat I lonely stray; All day to the repeating caves complain, In mournful accents, and a dying strain. Dear lovely youth, I cry to all around : Dear lovely youth, the flattering vales resound.
Page 4 - In ev'ry breast the beauteous nymph inspires : And on the plain when she no more appears, The plain a dark and gloomy prospect wears. In vain the streams roll on : the eastern breeze Dances in vain among the trembling trees. In vain the birds begin their...
Page 4 - Beauteous Aminta is as early light, Breaking the melancholy shades of night. When she is near, all anxious trouble flies ; And our reviving hearts confess her eyes. Young love, and blooming joy, and gay desires, In...
Page 106 - Of life, unstain'd with vanity, or art. No thought within his gen'rous mind had birth, But what he might have own'd to heav'n and earth.
Page 68 - DESPAIR. Oh ! lead me to some solitary gloom, Where no enlivening beams nor cheerful echoes come ; But silent all, and dusky let it be, Remote, and unfrequented but by me ; Mysterious, close, and sullen as that grief Which leads me to its covert for relief. Far from the busy world's detested noise, Its wretched pleasures, and distracted joys...
Page 22 - Take the glad burden of his name, Ye clouds as you arise, Whether to deck the golden morn, Or shade the evening skies.
Page 69 - To noble, serious, melancholy things. And let no human foot, but mine, e'er trace The close recesses of the sacred place : Nor let a bird of cheerful note come near, To whisper out his airy raptures here. Only the pensive songstress of the grove, Let her, by mine, her mournful notes improve ; While drooping winds among the branches sigh, And sluggish waters heavily roll by.
Page 129 - LORD, what is man that he should prove The object of thy boundless love? Say, why should he so largely share Thy favour, and thy tender care ? 2 While these my lips draw vital breath, Or till I close my eyes in death, I'll ne'er forget thy wondrous love, Nor thoughtless of thy kindness prove. 3 Beneath thy shadowing wings' defence I'll place my only confidence : In every danger and distress, To thee will I my prayer address.
Page 95 - His wreaths and painted nosegays will decay, And lose their proudest beauty in a day: But I've a gift which all his trifles mocks ; As towards the beach I lately drove my flocks, Three...

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