Poems, Sacred and MoralT. Cadell and W. Davies, 1803 - 177 стор. |
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againſt Athelwold Attica bade Bard beams Behold Beneath Bids blaze bleft blifs bofom breaſt breath bright brow Calno chap Chriſtian cloſe clouds Codan courſe cries darkneſs dead death Diſeaſe diſtant earth endleſs fable facred fate favage fcorn feek fhades fhall fhore figh fire flame fleep flood fnow fome fong foon forrow foul ftill ftrain fway fwell gaze gloom glory glow grief groan Hail hallow'd Hamath hand Hark Hear heart Heaven hoft laft lefs Lord lore lyre meridian height muſt o'er paft paſt paufe peace pile plain pleaſure praiſe preſent purſues Pyrrhonic raiſe rapture realms reign rife riſe Samaria Scania ſcene ſee ſhakes ſhall ſhare ſhine ſkies ſky ſmile ſpeaks ſpread ſpring ſtand ſtep ſtood ſtream ſtroke ſway Thee theſe thine thoſe thou throne tide tongue Truth veil your eyes waſte wave whofe whoſe WILLIAM MASON wings Wiſdom Youth
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Сторінка 79 - O Assyrian, the rod of mine anger ! and the staff" in their hand is mine indignation : I will send him against an hypocritical nation, and against the people of my wrath will I give him a charge, to take the spoil, and to take the prey, and to tread them down like the mire of the streets.
Сторінка 82 - I have put down the inhabitants like a valiant man : and my hand hath found as a nest the riches of the people : and as one gathereth eggs that are left, have I gathered all the earth ; and there was none that moved the wing, or opened the mouth, or peeped.
Сторінка 82 - By the strength of my hand I have done it, and by my wisdom ; for I am prudent: and I have removed the bounds of the people, and have robbed their treasures, and I have put down the inhabitants like a valiant man...
Сторінка 81 - Wherefore it shall come to pass, that, when the Lord hath performed his whole work upon Mount Zion and on Jerusalem, I will punish the fruit of the stout heart of the king of Assyria, and the glory of his high looks.
Сторінка 5 - No terrors haunt thee ! — -Lo, 'tis Winter's reign : His broad hand, plunging in the' Atlantic main, Lifts into mountain piles the boiling deep, And bounds with vales of death each billowy steep.
Сторінка 87 - In golden pomp, when autumn smiles, And hill and dale, its rich increase By man's full barns, exulting piles: Lord, is not that the hour of peace?
Сторінка 47 - And all that sat in the council, looking steadfastly on him, saw his face as it had been the face of an angel.
Сторінка 80 - fend him againft an hypocritical nation, " and againft the people of my wrath will " I give him a charge to take the fpoil, " and to take the prey,. and to tread them *' down like the mire of the ftreets. How" beit he meaneth not fo, neither doth his '' heart think fo, but it is in his heart to " deftroy and cut off nations not a few.
Сторінка 13 - TURN, turn thy hasty foot aside, Nor crush that helpless worm : The frame thy wayward looks deride Required a God to form.
Сторінка 148 - Britain swelPd with Freedom's patriot zeal * ; Nor thus confin'd, for every clime could glow, And in a Slave's a Brother's wrongs could feel: Could feel, o'er Afric's race when avarice spread Her bloody wing, and shook in scorn the chain ; While...