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Page 246 - For I dipt into the future, far as human eye could see, Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be; Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of magic sails, Pilots of the purple twilight, dropping down with costly bales ; Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there rain'da ghastly dew From the nations...
Page 52 - At length his lonely Cot appears in view, Beneath the shelter of an aged tree ; Th' expectant wee-things, toddlin, stacher through To meet their Dad, wi' flichterin noise an' glee. His wee bit ingle, blinkin bonnily, His clean hearth-stane, his thriftie Wifie's smile, The lisping infant prattling on his knee, Does a' his weary carking cares beguile, An' makes him quite forget his labor an
Page 52 - And because the breath of flowers is far sweeter in the air (where it comes and goes like the warbling of music) than in the hand, therefore nothing is more fit for that delight, than to know what be the flowers and plants that do best perfume the air.
Page 133 - The tear forgot as soon as shed, The sunshine of the breast : Theirs buxom health, of rosy hue ; Wild wit, invention ever new, And lively cheer of vigour born ; The thoughtless day, the easy night, The spirits pure, the slumbers light, That fly th
Page 246 - Soon shall thy arm, unconquered steam, afar Drag the slow barge, or drive the rapid car ; Or on wide waving wings expanded bear The flying chariot through the fields of air...
Page 296 - As rising from the vegetable world My theme ascends, with equal wing ascend, My panting Muse ! and hark, how loud the woods Invite you forth in all your gayest trim ! Lend me your song, ye nightingales ! oh, pour The mazy-running soul of melody Into my varied verse ! while I deduce, From the first note the hollow cuckoo sings, The symphony of Spring, and touch a theme Unknown to Fame,
Page 204 - Ever charming, ever new, When will the landscape tire the view ! The fountain's fall, the river's flow, The woody...
Page 42 - Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds; Save that, from yonder ivy-mantled tow'r, The moping owl does to the moon complain Of such as, wand'ring near her secret bow'r, Molest her ancient solitary reign.
Page 61 - Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot Of heart or hope ; but still bear up and steer Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask ? The conscience, friend, to...
Page 51 - The black'ning trains o' craws to their repose : The toil-worn cotter frae his labour goes, This night his weekly moil is at an end, Collects his spades, his mattocks, and his hoes, Hoping the morn in ease and rest to spend, And weary o'er the moor, his course does hameward bend. At length his lonely cot appears in view, Beneath the shelter of an aged tree ; Th' expectant wee-things, toddlin, stacher through To meet their dad, wi' flichterin noise an