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AUGUST bank beauty beneath birds bloom blow blue bower breast breathe bright cheer clear close clouds DAISY delight doth dwell early earth fair fate FIELD Flow gently flowers fresh give glow gold grass gray green grove grow hand happy hast hath hear heart heaven Hey ho hill hope leaves LESSONS light live look meet morning mountain Nature never o'er pass peace Perigot plain pleasant pleasures praise pure rest river roses round rural scenes seek seen shade sight silver simple sing sits smile soft song soul sound spring stream SUMMER sweet Afton tell thee thou thou art thought tree vale valley village violet voice WALK wandering waters wave wear wild willows wind wing woods young youth
Page 22 - 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.
Page 39 - You haste away so soon; As yet the early-rising Sun Has not attain'd his noon. Stay, stay Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song; And, having pray'd together, we Will go with you along. We have short time to stay, as you, We have as short a Spring ; As quick a growth to meet decay As you, or any thing.
Page 18 - Phoebus is himself thy sire. To thee, of all things upon earth, Life is no longer than thy mirth. Happy insect, happy thou ! Dost neither age nor winter know; But, when thou'st drunk, and danc'd, and sung Thy fill, the flowery leaves among, (Voluptuous and wise withal, Epicurean animal!) Sated with thy summer feast, Thou retir'st to endless rest.
Page 24 - How oft upon yon eminence our pace Has slackened to a pause, and we have borne The ruffling wind, scarce conscious that it blew, While Admiration, feeding at the eye, And still unsated, dwelt upon the scene.
Page 89 - My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream, Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
Page 48 - Or that ye have not seen as yet The violet ? Or brought a kiss From that Sweet-heart, to this? — No, no, this sorrow shown By your tears shed, Would have this lecture read, That things of greatest, so of meanest worth, Conceived with grief are, and with tears brought forth.
Page 24 - Leave to the nightingale her shady wood ; A privacy of glorious light is thine; Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood Of harmony, with instinct more divine; Type of the wise who soar, but never roam; True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home...
Page 22 - 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. Around my ivied porch shall spring Each fragrant flower that drinks the dew ; And Lucy, at her wheel, shall sing In russet gown and apron blue.