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appear bard beauty beneath bliss bloom boast bosom breast breathe bright charms crown Damon dear delight display ev'n face fair fame Fancy fate fields fire flame flow flow'r fond Fortune gentle give glow gold grace green ground grove hand hear heart hill hope hour kind lawn leave lov'd maid mind mournful Muse native Nature ne'er never nymph o'er once pain paint path peace pensive plain pleasing pleasure pow'r praise pride rise rose rural scene scorn seat seen shade shore sigh sight sing smile soft song soon soul sound spring stream sure swain sweet taste tear tender thee thine thou toils train trees tuneful Twas vain vale virtue voice wealth wild wind wish wood youth
Pagina 159 - Eftsoons the urchins to their tasks repair; Their books of stature small they take in hand, Which with pellucid horn secured are; To save from finger wet the letters fair: The work so gay, that on their back is seen, St. George's high achievements does declare; On which thilk wight that has y-gazing been Kens the forth-coming rod, unpleasing sight, I ween!
Pagina 158 - Here oft the dame, on Sabbath's decent eve, Hymned such psalms as Sternhold forth did mete, If winter 'twere, she to her hearth did cleave, But in her garden found a...
Pagina 154 - AH me! full sorely is my heart forlorn, To think how modest Worth neglected lies While partial Fame doth with her blasts adorn Such deeds alone, as pride and pomp disguise; Deeds of ill sort, and mischievous emprise: Lend me thy clarion, goddess!
Pagina 143 - Whoe'er has travell'd life's dull round, Where'er his stages may have been, May sigh to think he still has found The warmest welcome at an inn.
Pagina 155 - ... mean attire, A matron old, whom we Schoolmistress name: Who boasts unruly brats with birch to tame; They grieven sore in piteous durance pent, Aw'd by the...
Pagina 120 - If through the garden's flowery tribes I stray, Where bloom the jasmines that could once allure, "Hope not to find delight in us," they say, "For we are spotless, Jessy; we are pure.
Pagina 57 - Their colours and their sash he wore, And in the fatal dress was found ; And now he must that death endure, Which gives the brave the keenest wound.
Pagina 45 - I fed on the smiles of my dear ? They tell me, my favourite maid. The pride of that valley, is flown ; Alas ! where with her I have stray'd I could wander with pleasure, alone.
Pagina 157 - One ancient hen she took delight to feed, The plodding pattern of the busy dame, Which ever and anon, impell'd by need, Into her school, begirt with chickens, came; Such favour did her past deportment claim: And if neglect had lavish'd on the ground Fragment of bread, she would collect the same; For well she knew, and quaintly could expound, What sin it were to waste the smallest crumb she found.