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amusement Aspasio beauty beneath better blessing boast breath cause charms COWPER dear cousin dear friend death delight divine dream Droxford e'en earth eyes fair faith fancy favour fear feel flowers folly give glory grace hand happy hast hear heard heart Heaven homeless birds honour honoured land hope human Huntingdon John Gilpin JOHN NEWTON JOSEPH HILL labour LADY least less live Lord lyre mercy merey mind muse nature never numbers nymph o'er Olney once pain peace perhaps pleased pleasure poet praise prove reason rest scene scorn Scripture seems shine sight skies smile song soon soul sound spirit sure sweet taste thee theme thine things thou thought toil truth Twas verse virtue waste WILLIAM COWPER WILLIAM UNWIN wind wisdom wisely store wish wonder worth youth
Page 61 - I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd.
Page 123 - Now Mistress Gilpin (careful soul!) Had two stone bottles found, To hold the liquor that she loved, And keep it safe and sound. Each bottle had a curling ear, Through which the belt he drew, And hung a bottle on each side, To make his balance true. Then over all, that he might be Equipped from top to toe, His long red cloak, well brushed and neat, He manfully did throw.
Page 130 - I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day, I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away, And, turning from my nursery window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu ! But was it such ? It was.
Page 90 - Knowledge and Wisdom, far from being one, Have ofttimes no connexion. Knowledge dwells In heads replete with thoughts of other men, Wisdom in minds attentive to their own. Knowledge, a rude unprofitable mass, The mere materials with which wisdom builds, Till smoothed and squared, and fitted to its place, Does but encumber whom it seems to enrich.
Page 152 - But ah ! by constant heed I know How oft the sadness that I show Transforms thy smiles to looks of woe, My Mary ! And should my future lot be cast With much resemblance of the past, Thy worn-out heart will break at last — My Mary ! W.
Page 94 - I would not enter on my list of friends (Though graced with polish'd manners and fine sense, Yet wanting sensibility) the man Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.
Page 87 - Their blood is shed In confirmation of the noblest claim, Our claim to feed upon immortal truth, To walk with God, to be divinely free, To soar, and to anticipate the skies.
Page 110 - Ye winds, that have made me your sport, Convey to this desolate shore Some cordial endearing report Of a land I shall visit no more.
Page 44 - Of blackening pines, aye waving to and fro, Sent forth a sleepy horror through the blood ; And where this valley winded out below, The murmuring main was heard, and scarcely heard, to flow.