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beauty beneath betimes boast breath call'd cause charms deep delights distant divine dread dream earth ease Edmonton ev'n ev'ry fair fake fame fancy fast fear feed feel fense field of glory flow'r folly form'd foul fountain of eternal frown fruit give glory grace grave groves hand happy hast heart heav'n honour human John Gilpin king labour learn'd less lov'd lyre mercy Mighty winds mind muse nature Nature's Nebaioth never num'rous o'er once peace perhaps pity pleas'd pleasure plebeian pow'r praise proud prove rapture riddance rude rural scene schools scorn seek seem'd shine sleep sloth smile Sofa song soon sweet task taste thee their's theme thine thou art toil touch'd trembling truth Twas Twere vale virtue waste WILLIAM COWPER wind winter wisdom worth your's youth
Page 343 - JOHN GILPIN was a citizen Of credit and renown: A train-band captain eke was he Of famous London town. John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear, " Though wedded we have been These twice ten tedious years, yet we No holiday have seen. "To-morrow is our wedding-day, And we will then repair Unto the Bell at Edmonton All in a chaise and pair.
Page 139 - Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, And while the bubbling and loud hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
Page 275 - Come, then, and, added to thy many crowns, Receive yet one, the crown of all the earth, Thou who alone art worthy ! It was thine By ancient covenant, ere Nature's birth ; And thou hast made it thine by purchase since, And overpaid its value with thy blood.
Page 218 - He is the freeman whom the truth makes free, And all are slaves beside. There's not a chain That hellish foes, confederate for his harm, Can wind around him, but he casts it off With as much ease as Samson his green withes.
Page 65 - Would I describe a preacher, such as Paul, Were he on earth, would hear, approve, and own — Paul should himself direct me. I would trace His master-strokes, and draw from his design.
Page 101 - Defend me therefore, common sense, say I, From reveries so airy, from the toil Of dropping buckets into empty wells, And growing old in drawing nothing up...
Page 46 - I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd.
Page 47 - Slaves cannot breathe in England; if their lungs Receive our air, that moment they are free; They touch our country and their shackles fall.