Poems: With a Biographical and Critical Introduction, Том 2

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Milner and Sowerby, 1852 - 447 стор.

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Сторінка 420 - Twas my distress that brought thee low, My Mary ! Thy needles, once a shining store, For my sake restless heretofore, Now rust disused, and shine no more ; My Mary ! For though thou gladly wouldst fulfil The same kind office for me still, Thy sight now seconds not thy will, - My Mary ! But well thou play'dst the housewife's part; And all thy threads with magic art, Have wound themselves about this heart, My Mary...
Сторінка 373 - My boast is not that I deduce my birth From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth ; But higher far my proud pretensions rise, — The son of parents pass'd into the skies.
Сторінка 254 - Knowledge dwells In heads replete with thoughts of other men, Wisdom in minds attentive to their own.
Сторінка 254 - And, intercepting in their silent fall The frequent flakes, has kept a path for me. No noise is here, or none that hinders thought. The redbreast warbles still, but is content With slender notes, and more than half...
Сторінка 324 - Stop thief! stop thief! — a highwayman! Not one of them was mute; And all and each that passed that way Did join in the pursuit. And now the turnpike gates again Flew open in short space; The toll-men thinking as before That Gilpin rode a race. And so he did, and won it too, For he got first to town ; Nor stopped till where he had got up He did again get down. Now let us sing, long live the king...
Сторінка 367 - WHEN the British warrior queen, Bleeding from the Roman rods, Sought, with an indignant mien, Counsel of her country's gods ; Sage beneath the spreading oak Sat the Druid, hoary chief; Every burning word he spoke Full of rage, and full of grief.
Сторінка 304 - I AM monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute ; From the centre all round to the sea, I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
Сторінка 319 - For saddle-tree scarce reached had he, His journey to begin, When, turning round his head, he saw Three customers come in. So down he came : for loss of time, Although it grieved him sore, Yet loss of pence, full well he knew, Would trouble him much more.
Сторінка 251 - Thou art the source and centre of all minds, Their only point of rest, Eternal Word ! From thee departing, they are lost and rove At random without honour, hope, or peace.
Сторінка 258 - Happy who walks with him ! whom what he finds Of flavour or of scent in fruit or flower, Or what he views of beautiful or grand In nature, from the broad majestic oak To the green blade that twinkles in the sun, Prompts with remembrance of a present God.

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