The Village Minstrel, and Other Poems, Volume 1

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Taylor and Hessey ... and E. Drury, Stamford., 1821 - English poetry - 216 pages

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Page xxii - What more felicity can fall to creature Than to enjoy delight with liberty, And to be lord of all the works of nature! To reign in the air from earth to highest sky, To feed on flowers and weeds of glorious feature, To take whatever thing doth please the eye ! Who rests not pleased with such happiness, Well worthy he to taste of wretchedness.
Page 74 - Robbed every primrose-root I met, And oft-times got the root to set ; And joyful home each nosegay bore ; And felt— as I shall feel no more *.
Page 46 - There once were lanes in nature's freedom dropt, There once were paths that every valley wound, — Inclosure came, and every path was stopt ; Each tyrant fix'd his sign where paths were found, To hint a trespass now who cross'd the ground : Justice is made to speak as they command ; The high road now must be each stinted bound : — Inclosure, thou'rt a curse upon the land, And tasteless was the wretch who thy existence plann'd.
Page 13 - Bred in a village full of strife and noise, Old senseless gossips, and blackguarding boys, Ploughmen and threshers, whose discourses led To nothing more than labour's rude employs, 'Bout work being slack, and rise and fall of bread And who were like to die, and who were like to wed. It is from this actual village, where a community lives under pressure, that the poet withdraws to the quiet of nature, where he can speak for his own and others...
Page ix - Juvenile productions, and those of later date offsprings of those leisure intervals which the short remittance from hard and manual labour sparingly afforded to compose them.
Page 5 - O, who can speak his joys when spring's young morn From wood and pasture opened on his view, When tender green buds blush upon the thorn, And the first primrose dips its leaves in dew.
Page xvi - My two favourite elm trees at the back of the hut are condemned to die — it shocks me to relate it, but 'tis true. The savage who owns them thinks they have done their best, and now he wants to make use of the benefits he can get from selling them.
Page xxviii - Young Lubin was a peasant from his birth; His sire a hind born to the flail and plough, To thump the corn out and to till the earth, The coarsest chance which nature's laws allow — To earn his living by a sweating brow; Thus...
Page 171 - I met thy presence in my corner-chair, Musing and bearing up with troubles there ; Thrice hail, thou heavenly boon ! by God's decree At first creation plann'd, that all might share, Both man and beast, some hours from labour free, To offer thanks to Him whose mercy sent us thee.

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