Selections from the Poetical Works of William CowperGinn & Company, 1898 - 243 стор. |
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beauty beneath blank verse boast Book breath called cause charms CLIFTON REYNES Cowper wrote death delight distant divine dream earth ease Edited Emberton English Literature English poetry fair fame fancy fear feel flowers garden gives grace groves hand happiness hast heart heaven Homer honour human Inner Temple John Gilpin John Newton King labour Lady Austen Lady Hesketh Lavendon letter to Newton letter to Unwin live London lost Madame Guyon mind nature never night o'er Olney Olney Hymns once peace perhaps play pleasure poems poet poetic poetry praise Retirement river Ouse Sainte-Beuve satire scene seems shade shine smile Sofa song soon soul sound sweet Task taste thee theme thine thou art thought toil truth verse Vincent Bourne virtue walk Weston William Bull William Cowper wind winter wonder Wordsworth
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Сторінка 77 - Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, And while the bubbling and loud hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
Сторінка 145 - The sum is this. If man's convenience, health, Or safety interfere, his rights and claims Are paramount, and must extinguish theirs. Else they are all — the meanest things that are, As free to live, and to enjoy that life, As God was free to form them at the first, Who in his sovereign wisdom made them all.
Сторінка 205 - Who bidd'st me honour with an artless song, Affectionate, a mother lost so long. 1 will obey, not willingly alone, But gladly, as the precept were her own : And, while that face renews my filial grief, Fancy shall weave a charm for my relief, Shall steep me in Elysian reverie, A momentary dream, that thou art she.
Сторінка 195 - It was not in the battle ; No tempest gave the shock ; She sprang no fatal leak, She ran upon no rock. His sword was in its sheath, His fingers held the pen, When Kempenfelt went down With twice four hundred men.
Сторінка 206 - Dupe of to-morrow even from a child. Thus many a sad to-morrow came and went, Till, all my stock of infant sorrow spent, I learned at last submission to my lot ; But, though I less deplored thee, ne'er forgot. Where once we dwelt our name is heard no more, Children not thine have trod my nursery floor ; And where the gardener Robin, day by day, Drew me to school along the public way, Delighted with my bauble coach, and wrapped In scarlet mantle warm, and velvet capped, Tis now become a history little...
Сторінка 198 - I first took a view Of my favourite field, and the bank where they grew And now in the grass behold they are laid, And the tree is my seat that once lent me a shade ! The blackbird has fled to another retreat, Where the hazels afford him a screen from the heat, And the scene where his...
Сторінка 122 - He looks abroad into the varied field Of nature, and though poor perhaps, compared With those whose mansions glitter in his sight, Calls the delightful scenery all his own. His are the mountains, and the valleys his, And the resplendent rivers ; his to enjoy With a propriety that none can feel. But who with filial confidence inspired Can lift to heaven an unpresumptuous eye, And smiling say — My Father made them all.
Сторінка 26 - I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earned.
Сторінка 151 - One song employs all nations ; and all cry, " Worthy the Lamb, for he was slain for us !" The dwellers in the vales and on the rocks Shout to each other, and the mountain tops From distant mountains catch the flying joy ; Till, nation after nation taught the strain, Earth rolls the rapturous hosanna round.
Сторінка 207 - Shoots into port at some well-havened isle, Where spices breathe, and brighter seasons smile, There sits quiescent on the floods that show Her beauteous form reflected clear below, While airs impregnated with incense play Around her, fanning light her streamers gay ; So thou, with sails how swift ! hast reached the shore, 'Where tempests never beat nor billows roar.