The Poetical Works of William Cowper, Volume 2

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W. Pickering, 1830

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Page 97 - tis the twanging horn ! o'er yonder bridge, That with its wearisome but needful length Bestrides the wintry flood, in which the moon Sees her unwrinkled face reflected bright, He comes, the herald of a noisy world, With spatter'd boots, strapp'd waist, and frozen locks ; News from all nations lumbering at his back.
Page 34 - As human nature's broadest, foulest blot, Chains him, and tasks him, and exacts his sweat With stripes, that Mercy with a bleeding heart Weeps, when she sees inflicted on a beast : Then what is man ? And what man, seeing this, And having human feelings, does not "blush, And hang his head, to think himself a man...
Page 33 - OH for a lodge in some vast wilderness, Some boundless contiguity of shade, Where rumour of oppression and deceit, Of unsuccessful or successful war Might never reach me more...
Page 13 - Nor less attractive is the woodland scene, Diversified with trees of every growth, Alike yet various. Here the grey smooth trunks Of ash, or lime, or beech, distinctly shine, Within the twilight of their distant shades ; There lost behind a rising ground, the wood Seems sunk, and shorten'd to its topmost boughs.
Page 254 - Could time, his flight reversed, restore the hours, When, playing with thy vesture's tissued flowers, The violet, the pink, and jessamine, I prick'd them into paper with a pin, (And thou wast happier than myself the while, Wouldst softly speak, and stroke my head and smile...
Page 256 - My boast is not that I deduce my birth From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth ; But higher far my proud pretensions rise — The son of parents pass'd into the skies.
Page 163 - No noise is here, or none that hinders thought. The redbreast warbles still, but is content With slender notes and more than half...
Page 100 - The manners, customs, policy of all Pay contribution to the store he gleans ; He sucks intelligence in every clime, And spreads the honey of his deep research At his return — a rich repast for me.
Page 299 - Though duly from my hand he took His pittance every night, He did it with a jealous look, And, when he could, would bite. His diet was of wheaten bread, And milk, and oats, and straw ; Thistles, or lettuces instead, With sand to scour his maw. On twigs of hawthorn he regaled, On pippins...
Page 8 - The sloping land recedes into the clouds; Displaying on its varied side the grace Of hedge-row beauties numberless, square tow'r, Tall spire, from which the sound of cheerful bells Just undulates upon the list'ning ear, Groves, heaths, and smoking villages remote.

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