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Akenside ancient appears arms attend awful beauty behold bosom breast breath cause charms deep delight desire divine dread Dyson earth edition eternal fair faithful fame Fancy fate fire flame genius give groves hand happy hath hear heart heaven honour hope hour human imagination kind laws letter light living look manner mind morn mortal move Muse Nature Nature's never o'er objects once original passions path pleasing pleasure poem poet poetry pomp praise present printed published reason ridiculous rise round sacred says scene sense shade smiles song sons soon soul sound springs steps strain stream sublime sweet taste tell thee things thou thought throne toil tongue Truth turn various virtue voice write young youth
Page 22 - But who the melodies of morn can tell ? — The wild brook babbling down the mountain side ; The lowing herd ; the sheepfold's simple bell ; The pipe of early shepherd dim descried In the lone valley ; echoing far and wide, The clamorous horn along the cliffs above ; The hollow murmur of the ocean-tide ; The hum of bees ; the linnet's lay of love ; And the full choir that wakes the universal grove.
Page 123 - Imagination's tender frame, From nerve to nerve; all naked and alive They catch the spreading rays; till now the soul At length discloses every tuneful spring, To that harmonious movement from without Responsive. Then the inexpressive strain Diffuses its enchantment: Fancy dreams Of sacred fountains and Elysian groves, And vales of bliss...
Page 187 - The powers of man : we feel within ourselves His energy divine : he tells the heart, He meant, he made us to behold and love What he beholds and loves, the general orb Of life and being ; to be great like him, Beneficent and active.
Page 186 - Its lucid leaves unfolds; for him the hand Of autumn tinges every fertile branch With blooming gold, and blushes like the morn. Each passing hour sheds tribute from her wings; And still new beauties meet his lonely walk, And loves unfelt attract him. Not a breeze Flies o'er the meadow; not a cloud imbibes The setting sun's effulgence; not a strain From all the tenants of the warbling shade Ascends, but whence his bosom can partake Fresh pleasure unreprov'd.
Page 125 - Tired of earth And this diurnal scene, she springs aloft Through fields of air, pursues the flying storm, Rides on the vollied lightning through the heavens ; Or, yoked with whirlwinds, and the northern blast, Sweeps the long tract of day.
Page 136 - Is aught so fair In all the dewy landscapes of the Spring, In the bright eye of Hesper, or the morn, In Nature's fairest forms, is aught so fair As virtuous friendship? as the candid blush Of him who strives with fortune to be just? The graceful tear that streams for others
Page 124 - Omnipotent might send him forth In sight of mortal and immortal powers, As on a boundless theatre, to run The great career of justice ; to exalt His generous aim to all diviner deeds ; To chase each partial purpose from his breast ; And through the mists of passion and of sense, And through the tossing tide of chance and pain, To hold his course unfaltering, while the voice Of truth and virtue, up the steep ascent Of nature, calls him to his high reward, The applauding smile of heaven?
Page 125 - The applauding smile of heaven? Else wherefore burns In mortal bosoms this unquenched hope, That breathes from day to day sublimer things, And mocks possession ? wherefore darts the mind With such resistless ardour to embrace Majestic forms ; impatient to be free, Spurning the gross control of wilful might ; Proud of the strong contention of her toils ; Proud to be daring...
Page 187 - Refine at length, and every passion wears A chaster, milder, more attractive mien. But if to ampler prospects, if to gaze On Nature's form, where, negligent of all These lesser graces, she assumes the port Of that eternal majesty that weigh'd . The world's foundations...