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allegorical appear bear beautiful bleft breathe callid character charm Collins death deep delight deſcription ECLOGUE equal eyes fair fame Fancy Fear feel feet fide firſt flowers former genius golden green grief grove hair hand happy hear heard heart heaven himſelf hope hour imagery imagination imitation influence kind laſt lead leave letters light lines lov'd maid meaſure mind moral moſt mountain Muſe muſt native nature numbers nymph o'er Obſervations once opening Oriental painting paſſions paſtoral Peace perfect Pity plain pleaſure poems poet poet's poetical poetry pride riſe round ſame ſcene ſee ſeems ſentiment ſhade ſhall ſhe ſhepherds ſhould ſome ſong ſounds ſpecies ſtill ſtrain ſubject ſuch ſweet tears tender thee theſe thoſe thou thought thro truth turns vale verſe virtue whole whoſe wild winds written youth
Page 55 - How sleep the brave, who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung ; By forms unseen their dirge is sung : There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there ! TO MERCY.
Page 170 - Whose numbers, stealing through thy darkening vale, May not unseemly with its stillness suit ; As musing slow I hail Thy genial loved return. For when thy folding-star * arising shows His paly circlet, at his warning lamp The fragrant Hours, and Elves Who slept in buds the day, And many a Nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge And sheds the freshening dew, and lovelier still The pensive Pleasures sweet Prepare thy shadowy car.
Page 84 - O nymph endear'd ! Can well recall what then it heard. Where is thy native simple heart Devote to Virtue, Fancy, Art? Arise, as in that elder time, Warm, energic, chaste, sublime!
Page 96 - No wither'd witch shall here be seen, No goblins lead their nightly crew; The female fays shall haunt the green, And dress thy grave with pearly dew ! The red-breast oft at evening hours Shall kindly lend his little aid, With hoary moss, and gather'd flowers, To deck the ground where thou art laid.
Page 121 - What if the lion in his rage I meet ! Oft in the dust I view his printed feet : And fearful ! oft, when day's declining light Yields her pale empire to the mourner night, By hunger...
Page 46 - Though gentle Pity claim her mingled part, Yet all the thunders of the scene are thine.
Page 178 - And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail. Still would her touch the strain prolong ; And from the rocks, the woods, the vale, She call'd on Echo still through all the song ; And where her sweetest theme she chose, A soft responsive voice was heard at every close ; And Hope enchanted smil'd, and wav'd her golden hair...
Page 73 - ... The gradual dusky veil, While Spring shall pour his showers, as oft he wont> And bathe thy breathing tresses, meekest Eve ! While Summer loves to sport Beneath thy lingering light : While sallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves, Or Winter yelling through the troublous air, Affrights thy shrinking train, And rudely rends thy robes : So long, regardful of thy quiet rule, Shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, smiling Peace, Thy gentlest influence own, And love thy favourite name ! ODE TO PEACE.
Page 81 - He threw his blood-stained sword, in thunder, down ; And with a withering look, The war-denouncing trumpet took, And blew a blast so loud and dread, Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe! And, ever and anon, he beat The doubling drum, with furious heat...