The Poetical Works of Rogers, Campbell, J. Montgomery, Lamb, and Kirke White: Complete in One Volume

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A. and W. Galignani, 1829 - 497 стор.
 

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Сторінка 96 - MINE be a cot beside the hill, A bee-hive's hum shall soothe my ear ; A willowy brook, that turns a mill, With many a fall, shall linger near. The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch Shall twitter from her clay-built nest ; Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch, And share my meal, a welcome guest.
Сторінка 41 - The Sun's eye had a sickly glare, The Earth with age was wan The skeletons of nations were Around that lonely man ! Some had expired in fight — the brands Still rusted in their bony hands; In plague and famine some!
Сторінка 39 - I'll row you o'er the ferry." By this the storm grew loud apace, The water-wraith was shrieking ; And in the scowl of Heaven each face Grew dark as they were speaking. But still as wilder blew the wind, And as the night grew drearer, Adown the glen rode armed men, Their trampling sounded nearer.
Сторінка 70 - GOD is my strong salvation, What foe have I to fear ? In darkness and temptation, My light, my help is near.
Сторінка 75 - For Him shall prayer unceasing And daily vows ascend, His kingdom still increasing, A kingdom without end: The mountain-dews shall nourish ' A seed in weakness sown, Whose fruit shall spread and flourish And shake like Lebanon.
Сторінка 4 - Come, bright Improvement ! on the car of Time; And rule the spacious world from clime to clime ; Thy handmaid arts shall every wild explore, Trace every wave, and culture every shore.
Сторінка 119 - The storm, that wrecks the winter sky, No more disturbs their deep repose, Than summer evening's latest sigh That shuts the rose.
Сторінка 93 - That very law* which moulds a tear, And bids it trickle from its source, That law preserves the earth a sphere, And guides the planets in their course.
Сторінка 40 - By the wolf-scaring faggot that guarded the slain, At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw, And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again.
Сторінка 40 - The Soldier's Dream. OUR bugles sang truce ; for the night-cloud had lowered, And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky ; And thousands had sunk on the ground overpowered — The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die.

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