Poems, Volume 1

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J. Johnson, 1788 - 359 pages
 

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Page 307 - Ye winds, that have made me your sport, Convey to this desolate shore Some cordial endearing report Of a land I shall visit no more. My friends, do they now and then send A wish or a thought after me ? O tell me I yet have a friend, Though a friend I am never to see.
Page 308 - How fleet is a glance of the mind ! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land In a moment I seem to be there; But alas! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair.
Page 202 - When one, that holds communion with the skies, Has filled his urn where these pure waters rise, And once more mingles with us meaner things, 'Tis e'en as if an angel shook his wings ; Immortal fragrance fills the circuit wide, That tells us whence his treasures are supplied.
Page 327 - Did you admire my lamp, quoth he, As much as I your minstrelsy, You would abhor to do me wrong, As much as I to spoil your song; For 'twas the...
Page 71 - Hear the just law — the judgment of the skies! He that hates truth shall be the dupe of lies ; And he that -will be cheated to the last, Delusions strong as hell shall bind him fast.
Page 317 - On the whole it appears, and my argument shows, With a reasoning the court will never condemn, That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose, And the Nose was as plainly intended for them.
Page 238 - Though blameless, had incurr'd perpetual strife, Whose deeds had left, in spite of hostile arts, A deep memorial graven on their hearts. The recollection, like a vein of ore, The farther traced enrich'd them still the more ; They thought him, and they justly thought him, one Sent to do more than he appear'd to have done, To exalt a people, and to place them high Above all else, and wonder'd he should die.
Page 89 - Yon cottager, who weaves at her own door, Pillow and bobbins all her little store, Content though mean, and cheerful if not gay, Shuffling her threads about the livelong day, Just earns a scanty pittance, and at night Lies down secure, her heart and pocket light...
Page 170 - He loved the world that hated him : the tear That dropp'd upon his bible was sincere. Assail'd by scandal, and the tongue of strife, His only answer was — a blameless life ; And he that forged, and he that threw the dart, Had each a brother's interest in his heart.
Page 308 - But alas ! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair. But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair, Even here is a season of rest, And I to my cabin repair. There's mercy in every place, And mercy, encouraging thought ! Gives even affliction a grace, And reconciles man to his lot.

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