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Page 101 - Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay; Princes and lords may flourish or may fade; A breath can make them, as a breath has made: But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroy'd, can never be supplied.
Page 104 - Even now, methinks, as pondering here I stand I see the rural virtues leave the land. Down where yon anchoring vessel spreads the sail, That idly waiting flaps with every gale, Downward they move, a melancholy band, Pass from the shore and darken all the strand. Contented toil and hospitable care, And kind connubial tenderness are there; And piety, with wishes placed above, And steady loyalty and faithful love.
Page 44 - When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds, too late, that men betray, What charm can soothe her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away ? The only art her guilt to cover, To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom, is — to die.
Page 98 - Thus every good his native wilds impart, Imprints the patriot passion on his heart ; And e'en those ills that round his mansion rise, Enhance the bliss his scanty fund supplies. Dear is that shed to which his soul conforms, And dear that hill which lifts him to the storms ; And as a child, when scaring sounds molest, Clings close and closer to the mother's breast, So the loud torrent, and the whirlwind's roar, But bind him to his native mountains more.
Page 110 - That sly-boots was cursedly cunning to hide 'em. Here lies our good Edmund, whose genius was such, We scarcely can praise it or blame it too much; Who, born for the universe, narrowed his mind, And to party gave up what was meant for mankind: Though fraught with all learning, yet straining his throat To persuade Tommy Townshend to lend him a vote; Who, too deep for his hearers, still went on refining, And thought of convincing, while they thought of dining; Though equal to all things, for all things...
Page 102 - To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way. Beside the bed where parting life was laid, And sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismayed, The reverend champion stood. At his control, Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul ; Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise, And his last faltering accents whispered praise.
Page 102 - Sweet was the sound, when oft, at evening's close, Up yonder hill the village murmur rose ; There, as I pass'd with careless steps and slow, The mingling notes came soften'd from below ; The swain responsive as the milk-maid sung, The sober herd that low'd to meet their young ; The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, The playful children just let loose from school ; The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whispering wind, And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind ; These all in sweet confusion...
Page 103 - But verging to decline, its splendours rise, Its vistas strike, its palaces surprise ; While, scourged by famine, from the smiling land The mournful peasant leads his humble band ; And while he sinks, without one arm to save, The country blooms — a garden and a grave ! Where, then, ah ! where shall poverty reside, To 'scape the pressure of contiguous pride?
Page 97 - That proudly rise, or humbly court the ground — Whatever blooms in torrid tracts appear, Whose bright succession decks the varied year — Whatever sweets salute the northern sky With vernal lives, that blossom but to die— These here disporting own the kindred soil, Nor ask luxuriance from the planter's toil; While sea-born gales their gelid wings expand To winnow fragrance round the smiling land. But small the bliss that sense alone bestows; And sensual bliss is all the nation knows. In florid...