The British anthology; or, Poetical library, Volumes 7-8 |
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Pagina 9
... heaven Thy power approaches , all the wasteful host Of Pain and Sickness , squalid and deform'd , ' Hygeia , the goddess of health , was , according to the genealogy of the heathen deities , the daughter of Æscula- pius ; who , as well ...
... heaven Thy power approaches , all the wasteful host Of Pain and Sickness , squalid and deform'd , ' Hygeia , the goddess of health , was , according to the genealogy of the heathen deities , the daughter of Æscula- pius ; who , as well ...
Pagina 10
... Heaven , And all the pale tribes halting in the train Of Vice and heedless Pleasure : or if aught The comet's glare amid the burning sky , Mournful eclipse , or planets ill - combined , Portend disastrous to the vital world ; Thy ...
... Heaven , And all the pale tribes halting in the train Of Vice and heedless Pleasure : or if aught The comet's glare amid the burning sky , Mournful eclipse , or planets ill - combined , Portend disastrous to the vital world ; Thy ...
Pagina 11
... heaven's transparent dome With dim mortality . It is not air That from a thousand lungs reeks back to thine , Sated with exhalations rank and fell , The spoil of dunghills , and the putrid thaw Of Nature ; when from shape and texture ...
... heaven's transparent dome With dim mortality . It is not air That from a thousand lungs reeks back to thine , Sated with exhalations rank and fell , The spoil of dunghills , and the putrid thaw Of Nature ; when from shape and texture ...
Pagina 14
... heaven , That winnows into dust the blasted downs , Bare and extended wide without a stream , Too fast imbibes the attenuated lymph Which , by the surface , from the blood exhales . The lungs grow rigid , and with toil essay Their ...
... heaven , That winnows into dust the blasted downs , Bare and extended wide without a stream , Too fast imbibes the attenuated lymph Which , by the surface , from the blood exhales . The lungs grow rigid , and with toil essay Their ...
Pagina 15
... heaven offend , Correct the soil , and dry the sources up Of watery exhalation ; wide and deep Conduct your trenches through the quaking bog ; Solicitous , with all your winding arts , Betray the unwilling lake into the stream ; And ...
... heaven offend , Correct the soil , and dry the sources up Of watery exhalation ; wide and deep Conduct your trenches through the quaking bog ; Solicitous , with all your winding arts , Betray the unwilling lake into the stream ; And ...
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
Amang Aspasio auld auld lang syne bard beneath birks of Aberfeldy blast blate blithe blood bloom bonnie bosom braes brave breast breath BRIG charms chyle Cutty-sark dear dearie death deil delight ev'n fair fame fancy Farewell fate fear flowers frae Gilpin grace green groves Halloween hear heart Heaven hope hour ilka JOHN GILPIN JOHN SHARPE labour lass lassie life's lo'es mair Mary maun mind mony morning mourn Muse Nature's ne'er never night numbers o'er owre pain peace pleasure poor pride rage roar round scenes seem'd shade shine sing skies smile song soon soul spring stream sugh sweet TAM O'SHANTER taste tears tender thee There's thine thou toil TUNE-The Twas wander waste wave weary weel Whyles wild winds winter wretch young Jessie youth
Populaire passages
Pagina 8 - Then kneeling down to Heaven's Eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays; Hope 'springs exulting on triumphant wing,' That thus they all shall meet in future days, There ever bask in uncreated rays, No more to sigh or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise, In such society, yet still more dear, While circling Time moves round in an eternal sphere.
Pagina 7 - Like streamer long and gay, Till loop and button failing both, At last it flew away. Then might all people well discern The bottles he had slung, A bottle swinging at each side As hath been said or sung. The dogs did bark, the children screamed, Up flew the windows all, And every soul cried out, Well done ! As loud as he could bawl.
Pagina 12 - I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day, I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away, And, turning from my nursery window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu ! But was it such ? It was. Where thou art gone Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown : May I but meet thee on that peaceful shore, The parting word shall pass my lips no more...
Pagina 12 - 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...
Pagina 33 - I'm truly sorry man's dominion. Has broken nature's social union, An' justifies that ill opinion, Which makes thee startle At me, thy poor earth-born companion, An...
Pagina 33 - How fleet is a glance of the mind! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there; But alas! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair.
Pagina 9 - Inclined to tarry there ; For why ? — his owner had a house Full ten miles off, at Ware. So like an arrow swift he flew, Shot by an archer strong ; So did he fly — which brings me to The middle of my song. Away went Gilpin out of breath, And sore against his will, Till at his friend the calender's His horse at last stood still.
Pagina 30 - Thy snawie bosom sun-ward spread, Thou lifts thy unassuming head In humble guise; But now the share uptears thy bed, And low thou lies! Such is the fate of artless maid, Sweet floweret of the rural shade ! By love's simplicity betray'd, And guileless trust, Till she, like thee, all soil'd, is laid Low i
Pagina 29 - His sword was in its sheath, His fingers held the pen, When Kempenfelt went down With twice four hundred men. — Weigh the vessel up Once dreaded by our foes! And mingle with our cup The tears that England owes. Her timbers yet are sound, And she may float again Full charged with England's thunder, And plough the distant main: But Kempenfelt is gone, His victories are o'er; And he and his eight hundred Shall plough the wave no more.
Pagina 30 - Unskilful he to note the card Of prudent lore, Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, And whelm him o'er! Such fate to suffering worth is...