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ADDISON bear beauty breath bright bring BYRON charms dark death deep doth dreams DRYDEN earth ev'ry eyes face fair fall fame fate fear feel fields fire flowers fools give glory grace grief grow hand happy hath head hear heart heaven honour hope hour human kind king leaves light live look MILTON mind morning nature never night o'er once pain passion past peace pleasure poor POPE praise PRIOR reason rest rich rise round sense shade SHAKSPEARE shine sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound SPENSER spirit spring stand stars stream sweet SWIFT tears tell thee things THOMSON thou thought trees true truth turn virtue voice WALLER wind wise YOUNG youth
Сторінка 159 - 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.
Сторінка 382 - Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests: in all time, Calm or convulsed — in breeze, or gale, or storm. Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark-heaving; — boundless, endless, and sublime; The image of eternity, the throne Of the Invisible: even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
Сторінка 710 - I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER I REMEMBER, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn ; He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now I often wish the night Had borne my breath away ! I remember, I remember...
Сторінка 370 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! Here will we sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears; soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold.
Сторінка 105 - O how canst thou renounce the boundless store Of charms which Nature to her votary yields ! The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields ; All that the genial ray of morning gilds, And all that echoes to the song of even, All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, And all the dread magnificence of Heaven, O how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven ! These charms shall work thy soul's eternal health, And love, and gentleness, and joy impart.
Сторінка 646 - I love thee, and it is my love that speaks, — There are a sort of men, whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond ; And do a wilful stillness entertain, With purpose to be drest in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit: As who should say, 'I am Sir Oracle, And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark...
Сторінка 617 - Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill : But their strong nerves at last must yield ; They tame but one another still : Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath When they, pale captives, creep to death.
Сторінка 548 - I fear no foe with thee at hand to bless; ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness. Where is death's sting? Where, grave, thy victory? I triumph still, if thou abide with me.
Сторінка 430 - Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, And e'en his failings leaned to virtue's side; But in his duty prompt at every call, He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all: And, as a bird each fond endearment tries, To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.