Poems, Volumen31815 |
Contenido
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Términos y frases comunes
Æneas ANTISTROPHE appear bard beneath boast born bosom breast breath brow Cacus call'd companion Cowper death delight destin'd divine Dryope Dunham Lodge Eartham East Dereham ev'n ev'ry eyes fair fame Faunus fear flow'rs friendship gentle grace grove hand Happisburgh happy Hayley heart Heav'n Homer honour hope Iliad John Throckmorton Jove kind kinsman labour Lady Austen Lady Hesketh lambs Latium length letter lyre Mary mind morning Muse ne'er never night num'rous numbers nymphs o'er Olney once pain Pallas Philomela Phœbus poem Poet poetical pow'r praise prove quæ rest Rose scarcely scene seek your home seem'd shade shore sight skies smile song soon spirits sweet tears thee theme thine thoughts are due THRACIAN tibi translation Twas Unwin verse VINCENT BOURNE Weston WILLIAM COWPER WILLIAM HAYLEY wish worth write youth
Pasajes populares
Página xiii - Robin, day by day, Drew me to school along the public way, Delighted with my bauble coach, and wrapped In scarlet mantle warm, and velvet capped, Tis now become a history little known, That once we called the pastoral house our own.
Página 67 - Toll for the brave ! Brave Kempenfelt is gone ; His last sea-fight is fought, His work of glory done. It was not in the battle ; No tempest gave the shock ; She sprang no fatal leak ; She ran upon no rock.
Página 237 - And still to love, though prest with ill, In wintry age to feel no chill, With me is to be lovely still, My Mary ! But ah ! by constant heed I know How oft the sadness that I show Transforms thy smiles to looks of woe, My Mary ! And should my future lot be cast With much resemblance of the past, Thy worn-out heart will break at last — My Mary ! W.
Página 237 - Thy silver locks, once auburn bright, Are still more lovely in my sight Than golden beams of orient light, My Mary ! For, could I view nor them nor thee, What sight worth seeing could I see ? The sun would rise in vain for me, My Mary ! Partakers of thy sad decline, Thy hands their little force resign ; Yet, gently prest, press gently mine, My Mary...
Página 244 - Whate'er they gave, should visit more. Nor, cruel as it seem'd, could he Their haste himself condemn, Aware that flight, in such a sea, Alone could rescue them; Yet bitter felt it still to die Deserted, and his friends so nigh.
Página 236 - T was 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 ! For though thou gladly wouldst fulfil The same kind office for me still...
Página 236 - Mary ! Thy spirits have a fainter flow, I see thee daily weaker grow 'Twas my distress that brought thee low, My Mary!
Página 68 - His sword was in its sheath; His fingers held the pen, When Kempenfelt went down With twice four hundred men. Weigh the vessel up, Once dreaded by our foes ! And mingle with our cup The tear that England owes. Her timbers yet are sound, And she may float again Full charged with England's thunder; And plough the distant main. But Kempenfelt is gone, His victories are o'er ; And he and his eight hundred Shall plough the wave no more.
Página 245 - 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 date : But misery still delights to trace Its semblance in another's case.
Página 205 - That we account most durable below ! Change is the diet on which all subsist, Created changeable, and change at last Destroys them.