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Aspasio beauty beneath bids blest blooming groves boast breast breath cause charms dear death deem delight divine dream e'en earth ease eyes fair fame fancy fear feel fieldfare flowers folly frown give glory grace hand happy happy prisoners hast hear heard heart Heaven honour hope hour INNER TEMPLE John Gilpin John Throckmorton labour land life's light live lyre mankind mind muse nature Nature's Nebaioth never nymph o'er once pain Parnassian peace perhaps Pertenhall pheme pleasure poet poet's praise pride prize proud prove rapture rest sacred scene scorn seek seems shade shine sigh sight silent clock skies smile song soon soul sound stream sweet taste tears telescopic eye thee theme thine thought toil trembling trifler truth Twas virtue voice waste WILLIAM COWPER wind wisdom wonder worth youth
Page 400 - Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss — Ah, that maternal smile ! — it answers — Yes. I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day, I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away, And, turning from my nursery window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu I But was it such ? — It was.— Where thou art gone Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown.
Page 381 - Said Gilpin — So am I ! But yet his horse was not a whit Inclined to tarry there ; For why? — his owner had a house Full ten miles off, at Ware. So like an arrow swift he flew, Shot by an archer strong ; So did he fly — which brings me to The middle of my song. Away went Gilpin out of breath, And sore against his will, Till at his friend the calender's His horse at last stood still.
Page 185 - There is no flesh in man's obdurate heart, It does not feel for man. The natural bond Of brotherhood is severed as the flax That falls asunder at the touch of fire.
Page 459 - Adieu !" At length, his transient respite past, His comrades, who before Had heard his voice in every blast, Could catch the sound no more : For then, by toil subdued, he drank The stifling wave, and then he sank. No poet wept him ; but the page Of narrative sincere, That tells his name, his worth, his age, Is wet with Anson's tear : And tears by bards or heroes shed, Alike immortalize the dead. I therefore purpose not, or dream, Descanting on his fate, To give the melancholy theme A more enduring...
Page 401 - Tis now become a history little known, That once we called the pastoral house our own. Short-lived possession ! but the record fair That memory keeps of all thy kindness there, Still outlives many a storm that has effaced A thousand other themes less deeply traced.
Page 454 - Twas my distress that brought thee low, My Mary ! Thy needles, once a shining store, For my sake restless heretofore, Now rust disused, and shine no more, My Mary...
Page 273 - The oppressor holds His body bound, but knows not what a range His spirit takes, unconscious of a chain, And that to bind him is a vain attempt Whom God delights in, and in whom he dwells.
Page 382 - And all the world would stare, If wife should dine at Edmonton, And I should dine at Ware. So turning to his horse, he said, I am in haste to dine ; 'Twas for your pleasure you came here, You shall go back for mine.
Page 168 - Of neighb'ring fountain, or of rills that slip Through the cleft rock, and, chiming as they fall Upon loose pebbles, lose themselves at length In matted grass, that with a livelier green Betrays the secret of their silent course.
Page 383 - And galloped off with all his might, As he had done before. Away went Gilpin, and away Went Gilpin's hat and wig : He lost them sooner than at first ; For why ? — they were too big. Now Mistress Gilpin, when she saw Her husband posting down Into the country far away, She pulled out half-a-crown ; And thus unto the youth she said That drove them to the Bell, " This shall be yours, when you bring back My husband safe and well.