The collected poems of ... N.T. Carrington, ed. by H.E. Carrington

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Page 113 - O what a noble heart was here undone, When Science' self destroyed her favorite son ! Yes ! she too much indulged thy fond pursuit,— She sowed the seeds, but Death has reaped the fruit.
Page 95 - The story is well told by Goldsmith :—" Edgar had long heard of the beauty of a young lady, whose name was Elfrida, daughter to the Earl of Devonshire ; but unwilling to credit common fame in this particular, he sent Ethelwald, (or Athelwold) his favourite friend, to see, and inform him, if Elfrida was indeed
Page 96 - his resentment, he took occasion to visit that part of the country where this miracle of beauty was detained, accompanied by Ethelwald, who reluctantly attended him thither. Upon coming near the lady's habitation he told him that he had a curiosity to see his wife, of whom he had formerly heard so much, and desired to be introduced as his acquaintance.
Page 97 - the king no sooner saw, than he loved her, and was instantly resolved to obtain her. The better to effect his intentions, he concealed his passion from the husband, and took leave with a seeming indifference ; but his revenge was not the less certain and fatal.
Page 18 - the finish'd ship Is ready for the impressive Launch. The day Arrives, the Atlantic tide is swelling high To place her on its bosom. O'er her decks The streamers wave ail-gallantly, around Enlivening music floats, while myriads crowd Where the bold vessel on her rapid plane Sits proudly. Hark ! the intrepid
Page 90 - by rote all the ribaldry and common-place jests against religion and scripture which are well suited to display pertness and folly and to unsettle a giddy mind, but are offensive to men of sense, whatever their opinions may be, and are neither intended nor adapted to investigate truth. The brilliancy of Mr. Tilly's wit
Page 89 - by the heat of the furnaces, that those who have been employed at them but a few months, become most emaciated figures, and, in the course of a few years, are generally laid in their graves." Mr. Polwhele says that more than one half the mining population falls a sacrifice to consumption, which is brought on by working in the damps.
Page 24 - till the hour, When he, exulting, on the ground shall dash Thy walls, now trembling to the western gale, He clothes them with his spirit-chilling green, His dark and favourite ivy, cheerless plant, Sacred to Desolation ! Ere we pass Thy mouth, auxiliar Lynher, we may pause
Page 6 - mild And happy climate where no fierce extremes Of cold and heat annoy. How soft the breeze That from the warm South comes ! how sweet to feel The gale favonian too that o'er the cheek Breathes health and life ! Nor are inspiring days Of radiance wanting: oft the monarch orb Holds
Page 19 - now Rushing sublimely to the flashing deep, Amid the shouts of thousands she descends, Then rises buoyantly, a graceful pile, To float supinely on the blue HAMOAZE, Till England, the wing'd miracle shall send, To bear her dreaded banner round the globe.

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