Masters and workmen, by lord B-, Том 1;Том 632

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Сторінка 279 - But how could I forget thee? Through what power, Even for the least division of an hour, Have I been so beguiled as to be blind To my most grievous loss? — That thought's return Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore, Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn, Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more; That neither present time, nor years unborn Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.
Сторінка 315 - While thro' the ragged roof and chinky wall, ' Chill o'er his slumbers, piles the drifty heap ! ' Think on the dungeon's grim confine, ' Where guilt and poor misfortune pine ! ' Guilt, erring man, relenting view ! ' But shall thy legal rage pursue ' The wretch, already crushed low ' By cruel fortune's undeserved blow ? ' Affliction's sons are brothers in distress ; ' A brother to relieve, how exquisite the bliss !' I heard nae mair, for Chanticleer Shook off the pouthery snaw, And hail'd the morning...
Сторінка 70 - I'll mourn A faithless woman's broken vow. DESPONDENCY. OPPRESS'D with grief, oppress'd with care, A burden more than I can bear, I sit me down and sigh : O life ! thou art a galling load, Along a rough, a weary road, To wretches such as I...
Сторінка 229 - If on a pillory, or near a throne, He gain his prince's ear, or lose his own. Yet soft by nature, more a dupe than wit, Sappho can tell you how this man was bit: This dreaded...
Сторінка 184 - When thou return'st, thou in this place wilt see A work which is not here : a covenant 'Twill be between us But, whatever fate Befall thee, I shall love thee to the last, And bear thy memory with me to the grave.
Сторінка 31 - ... they behold The countenance of the horizontal sun, Rising or setting, let the light at least Find a free entrance to their languid orbs. And let him, where and when he will, sit down Beneath the trees, or on a grassy bank Of highway side, and with the little birds Share his chance-gathered meal ; and, finally, As in the eye of Nature he has lived, So in the eye of Nature let him die ! ^>, THE FARMER OF TILSBURY VALE.
Сторінка 31 - Been doomed so long to settle upon earth That not without some effort they behold The countenance of the horizontal sun, Rising or setting, let the light at least Find a free entrance to their languid orbs. And let him, where and when he will, sit down Beneath the trees, or...
Сторінка 130 - Death! the poor man's dearest friend, The kindest and the best! Welcome the hour my aged limbs Are laid with thee at rest! The Great, the Wealthy fear thy blow, From pomp and pleasure torn; But, Oh! a blest relief to those That weary-laden mourn!
Сторінка 16 - There is nothing more loathesome and revolting to a benevolent heart than these secret and long hidden recesses of great cities which, in many instances, have been suddenly broken open by the social earthquake of modern railways and laid bare, with all their filth and their poverty and their dense population, to the public eye. These plague spots of our great commercial towns are no longer hidden by plaster palaces and flaunting...
Сторінка 130 - Yet, let not this too much, my son, Disturb thy youthful breast; This partial view of human kind.. Is surely not the last! The poor oppressed, honest man, Had never, sure been born, Had there not been some recompense To comfort those that mourn ! O Death ! the poor man's dearest friend, The kindest and the best!

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