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agen bard beam beneath blest bliss blood bloom bosom breast breath charms cheer clouds dark death deep dread e'er earth Edwin etermity eternal exulting eyes fair fame fancy fate fear fire flame flower free soul gale gentle gloomy glory grace grave Greece groves hand heart heaven Hermit horror hour Indolence light lonely lov’d love lies bleeding lyre mind morn mourn Muse Musidora nature Nature's ne'er never night o'er pain peace Philomelus pity plain pleasure praise pride rage reign repose rills rise round rude scene seem'd seraph shade shore sigh skies sleep smile soft song sooth sorrow soul sound spleen Stamp'd strain stream sublime sweet tears tempest thee thine thou thro toil trembling Twas tyrant vale vext virtue voice wandering wave weam weary Whilst wild wind wings wretch youth
Page 125 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Page 230 - I care not, fortune, what you me deny ; You cannot rob me of free nature's grace ; You cannot shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shows her brightening face, You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve : Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And I their toys to the great children leave : Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave.
Page 183 - 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.
Page 201 - 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.
Page 128 - Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply : And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die.
Page 149 - By the wolf-scaring faggot that guarded the slain, At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw; And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again. Methought from the battle-field's dreadful array Far, far I had roamed on a desolate track: 'Twas autumn, — and sunshine arose on the way To the home of my fathers, that welcomed me back.
Page 189 - And calmly bent, to servitude conform, Dull as their lakes that slumber in the storm. Heavens ! how unlike their Belgic sires of old ! Rough, poor, content, ungovernably bold ; War in each breast, and freedom on each brow.
Page 177 - Where all the ruddy family around Laugh at the jests or pranks that never fail, Or sigh with pity at some mournful tale; Or press the bashful stranger to his food, And learn the luxury of doing good.
Page 187 - And haply, though my harsh touch, faltering still, But mock'd all tune, and marr'd the dancer's skill, Yet would the village praise my wondrous power, And dance, forgetful of the noontide hour. Alike all ages. Dames of ancient days Have led their children through the mirthful maze ; And the gay grandsire, skill'd in gestic lore, Has frisk'd beneath the burden of threescore.