The View

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Sharpe, 1819 - 28 Seiten
 

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Seite 32 - He drives his flock to pick the scanty blade, Those fenceless fields the sons of wealth divide, And even the bare-worn common is denied. If to the city sped — what waits him there? To see profusion that he must not share ; To see ten thousand baneful arts combined To pamper luxury, and thin mankind; To see those joys the sons of pleasure know Extorted from his fellow-creature's woe.
Seite 1 - I cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue, unexercised and unbreathed, that never sallies out and sees her adversary, but slinks out of the race, where that immortal garland is to be run for, not without dust and heat.
Seite 1 - The victim by turns of selfish and sanguinary factions, of petty tyrants, and of foreign invaders, Italy has fallen like a star from its place in heaven ; she has seen her harvests trodden down by the horses of the stranger, and the blood of her children wasted in quarrels not their own ; Conquering or conquered, in the indignant language of her poet, still alike a slave ;~\- a long retribution for the tyranny of Rome.
Seite 27 - ... is a trial, I fear, too hard for the virtue of London. It is to this side, that I look with greatest apprehension. The plague with which we are threatened, will not begin, like that of Homer, with inferior animals, among dogs and mules, but in the fairest and choicest part of the creation ; with those, whose fineness of texture makes them weak ; whose susceptibility most exposes them to contagion ; whose natures being most excellent, are, for that very reason, capable of becoming most depraved...
Seite 21 - Here all is strenuous idleness ! the hum Of men, like children bustling about nought : The bawling mountebank, and frequent drum, Are glorious substitutes for troublous thought ; While business is unheeded and unsought. Here to the last they whirl around ; the bier Bears to the grave some noisy trifler caught By death ; the world's epitome is here ; The sight provokes a smile, yet mingled with a tear.
Seite 5 - The ambitious rhododendron climbs the snow ; Pines darken round the mountain's sides ; behold ! A thousand rills from icy caverns flow, Rushing o'er rocks irregularly bold, Where the tenacious sapling keeps its hold : Below the dark stream with collected force, Still rolling on as it has ever roll'd, Through the wide plains shapes its resistless course, As rude as Ocean's self — as grand as is its source.
Seite 4 - The golden sun has coloured all the woods ! Fresh views succeed ; each brighter than the last ' There barren rocks are channell'd by the floods, Here Flora's beauties cannot be surpast. Lausanne, an universe of charms thou hast ; There Winter's fetter'd in his icy bed — Steeps rise o'er steeps immeasurably vast — While the rude crags, projecting overhead, Strike in the stoutest hearts a momentary dread. Tit...
Seite 28 - I have in th' heat of youth made heretofore, That in light wits did loose affection move ; But all those follies now I do reprove, And turned have the tenor of my string, The heavenly prayses of true love to sing.
Seite 4 - Here from our slumbers light we rise to feel The consciousness of being ; fresh and free The soul pours forth its orisons with zeal To the great Spirit of Eternity That was, that is, and shall for ever be. The fertile valleys, giant mountains, prove The Omnipresence of the Deity ! Blest emblems of his wisdom, power, and love, Pervading all things here — around, below, above.
Seite 3 - Blanc, while generations pass away ; Thy vast heights glistening with untrodden snow, On which the sun at eve imprints his ray ; There lingers yet the mild farewell of day, The blue lake sleeps below in tranquil sheen; Here, among nature's miracles, I'll pray To nature's deity ; — how vast the scene ! The loveliest works of God— the grandest too are seen. Here from our slumbers light we rise to feel The consciousness of being : fresh and free The soul pours forth its orisons with zeal To the...

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