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Сторінка 120 - 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 687 - ... that the foundations of our national policy will be laid in the pure and immutable principles of private morality ; and the preeminence of free government, be exemplified by all the attributes which can win the affections of its citizens, and command the respect of the world.
Сторінка 755 - Be smooth, ye rocks! ye rapid floods, give way! The Saviour comes! by ancient bards foretold: Hear him, ye deaf! and all ye blind, behold! He from thick films shall purge the visual ray, And on the sightless eyeball pour the day: 'Tis he th' obstructed paths of sound shall clear And bid new music charm th' unfolding ear: The dumb shall sing, the lame his crutch forego, And leap exulting like the bounding roe.
Сторінка 756 - See, a long race thy spacious courts adorn; See future sons, and daughters yet unborn, In crowding ranks on every side arise, Demanding life, impatient for the skies ! See barbarous nations at thy gates attend, Walk in thy light, and in thy temple bend...
Сторінка 634 - And Adam lived an hundred and thirty years, and begat a son in his own likeness, after his image; and called his name Seth...
Сторінка 123 - Tempe's vale, her native maids, Amidst the festal sounding shades, To some unwearied minstrel dancing ; While, as his flying fingers kiss'd the strings, Love framed with Mirth a gay fantastic round : Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound; And he, amidst his frolic play, As if he would the charming air repay, Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings.
Сторінка 123 - When Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue, Her bow across her shoulder flung, Her buskins gemmed with morning dew, Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung, — The hunter's call, to faun and dryad known!
Сторінка 221 - I think there was some foundation for that opinion, since, by the apparent motion of the great luminary that gives life to all nature, and which in my time has evidently...
Сторінка 713 - Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery, And life unto the bitter in soul, Which long for death, but it cometh not, And dig for it more than for hid treasures; Which rejoice exceedingly, And are glad when they can find the grave?