Sonnets, and other poems, Band 1

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Printed for T. Cadell, jun., 1800 - 180 Seiten
 

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Seite 177 - Though thy clime Be fickle, and thy year, most part, deform'd With dripping rains, or withered by a frost, I would not yet exchange thy sullen skies, And fields without a flower, for warmer France With all her vines ; nor for Ausonia's groves Of golden fruitage, and her myrtle bowers.
Seite 19 - Time ! who know'st a lenient hand to lay Softest on sorrow's wound, and slowly thence, Lulling to sad repose the weary sense, The faint pang stealest unperceived away; On thee I rest my only hope at last, And think, when thou hast dried the bitter tear That flows in vain o'er all my soul held dear, 1 may look back on every sorrow past, And meet life's peaceful evening with a smile...
Seite 176 - If it should ever be totally extinguished, the loss, I fear, will be great. It is this which has given its character to modern Europe. It is this which has distinguished it under all its forms of government, and distinguished it to its advantage, from the states of Asia, and possibly from those states which flourished in the most brilliant periods of the antique world.
Seite 164 - How soft the music of those village bells, Falling at intervals upon the ear In cadence sweet, now dying all away, Now pealing loud again, and louder still. Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on ! With easy force it opens all the cells Where Mem'ry slept. Wherever I have heard A kindred melody, the scene recurs, And with it all its pleasures and its pains.
Seite 138 - twas wild. But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair, What was thy delighted measure ? Still it whisper'd promised pleasure, And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail...
Seite 16 - How sweet the tuneful bells responsive peal ! As when, at opening morn, the fragrant breeze Breathes on the trembling sense of wan disease, So piercing to my heart their force I feel ! And hark ! with lessening cadence now they fall, And now along the white and level tide They fling their melancholy music wide, Bidding me many a tender thought recall Of summer days...
Seite 14 - Uplift their shadowing heads, and, at their feet, Scarce hear the surge that has for ages beat, Sure many a lonely wanderer has stood, And, whilst the lifted murmur met his ear, And o'er the distant billows the still Eve Sailed slow, has thought of all his heart must leave Tomorrow...
Seite 176 - All the decent drapery of life is to be rudely torn off. All the superadded ideas, furnished from the wardrobe of a moral imagination, which the heart owns and the understanding ratifies, as necessary to cover the defects of our naked, shivering nature, and to raise it to dignity in our own estimation, are to be exploded as a ridiculous, absurd, and antiquated fashion.
Seite 14 - How many a lonely wanderer has stood ! And, whilst the lifted murmur met his ear, And o'er the distant billows the still eve Sailed slow, has thought of all his heart must leave To-morrow ; of the friends he loved most dear ; Of social scenes, from which he wept to part...
Seite 177 - To shake thy senate, and from heights sublime Of patriot eloquence to flash down fire Upon thy foes, was never meant my task : But I can feel thy fortunes, and partake Thy joys and sorrows, with as true a heart As any thund'rer there.

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