The Boy's Friend; Or, the Maxims of a Cheerful Old Man ... With Engravings on Wood. Second Edition

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Page 186 - And I have loved thee, Ocean ! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward : from a boy I wantoned with thy breakers — they to me Were a delight : and if the freshening sea Made them a terror — 'twas a pleasing fear, For I was as it were a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane — as I do here.
Page 7 - HAPPINESS ! our being's end and aim ! Good, Pleasure, Ease, Content ! whate'er thy name: That something still which prompts th' eternal sigh, For which we bear to live, or dare to die...
Page 166 - And through his airy hall the loud misrule Of driving tempest is for ever heard : Here the grim tyrant meditates his wrath ; Here arms his winds with all-subduing frost ; Moulds his fierce hail, and treasures up his snows, With which he now oppresses half the globe.
Page 29 - The poor inhabitant below Was quick to learn and wise to know, And keenly felt the friendly glow, And softer flame ; But thoughtless follies laid him low, And stain'd his name ! Reader, attend ! whether thy soul Soars fancy's flights beyond the pole, Or darkling grubs this earthly hole, In low pursuit ; Know, prudent, cautious, self-control Is wisdom's root.
Page 29 - O Caledonia! stern and wild, Meet nurse for a poetic child! Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, Land of the mountain and the flood, Land of my sires!
Page 55 - And what is friendship but a name, A charm that lulls to sleep ; A shade that follows wealth or fame, But leaves the wretch to weep...
Page 93 - Were I so tall to reach the pole, Or grasp the ocean with my span, I must be measured by my soul : The mind's the standard of the man.
Page 109 - William, the young man cried, And pleasures with youth pass away; And yet you lament not the days that are gone, Now tell me the reason, I pray.
Page 30 - A THOUSAND miles from land are we, Tossing about on the roaring sea ; From billow to bounding billow cast, Like fleecy snow on the stormy blast : The sails are scattered abroad, like weeds, The strong masts shake, like quivering reeds, The mighty cables, and iron chains, The hull, which all earthly strength disdains, They strain and they crack, and hearts like stone Their natural hard, proud strength disown. Up and down ! Up and down ! From...
Page 100 - The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself; * Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like the baseless fabric of a vision, Leave not a wreck behind.

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