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amid angels art thou beam beneath bids blest bliss boast bosom breast breath bright charms clouds dark death deep delight distant divine dread dream dust Earth etermity eternal ethereal ev'ry Ev’n fair fame fancy fate fear feel fire flame give glory grace grave hand happy heart Heaven hope hour human immortal labour light live Lorenzo lyre mankind Margaret of Anjou mind mortal Muse Nature Nature's ne'er never night nought numbers o'er OLIVER GOLDSMITH once pain passions peace pleas'd pleasure poison'd pow'r praise pride proud rage rapture rise round sacred scene scorm shade shine sigh skies sleep smile soft song soul stars storm stream sublime sweet swell tempest thee theme thine thou thought throne toil trembling truth vale vex'd virtue waste wave wild winds wing wisdom wise wretch youth
Page 7 - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild ; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year ; Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change his place...
Page 82 - E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, 'Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn...
Page 7 - 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 whisp'ring wind. And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind ; These all in sweet confusion sought the shade, And fill'd each pause the nightingale had made.
Page 82 - One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill, Along the heath, and near his fav'rite tree ; Another came ; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he ; ' The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Page 81 - Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
Page 233 - Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there ; But alas ! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair.
Page 9 - 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 86 - Fair laughs the Morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes: Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm: Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That hush'd in grim repose expects his evening prey.
Page 235 - Until he came unto the Wash Of Edmonton so gay ; And there he threw the Wash about, On both sides of the way, Just like unto a trundling mop, Or a wild goose at play. At Edmonton his loving wife From the balcony spied Her tender husband, wondering much To see how he did ride. " Stop, stop, John Gilpin ! Here's the house!" They all at once did cry ; "The dinner waits and we are tired.