The British anthology; or, Poetical library, Volumes 7-8 |
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Results 1-5 of 39
Page 12
... scene where Nature smiles Benign , where all her honest children thrive . To us there wants not many a happy seat ! Look round the smiling land , such numbers rise We hardly fix , bewilder'd in our choice . See where enthroned in ...
... scene where Nature smiles Benign , where all her honest children thrive . To us there wants not many a happy seat ! Look round the smiling land , such numbers rise We hardly fix , bewilder'd in our choice . See where enthroned in ...
Page 62
... scenes , Or Fear , or delicate Self - love creates . From other cares absolved , the busy mind Finds in yourself a theme to pore upon ; It finds you miserable , or makes you so . For while yourself you anxiously explore , Timorous Self ...
... scenes , Or Fear , or delicate Self - love creates . From other cares absolved , the busy mind Finds in yourself a theme to pore upon ; It finds you miserable , or makes you so . For while yourself you anxiously explore , Timorous Self ...
Page 64
... scenes New to your eyes , and shifting every hour , Beyond the Alps , beyond the Apennines . Or , more adventurous , rush into the field Where war grows hot ; and , raging through the sky , The lofty trumpet swells the maddeuing soul ...
... scenes New to your eyes , and shifting every hour , Beyond the Alps , beyond the Apennines . Or , more adventurous , rush into the field Where war grows hot ; and , raging through the sky , The lofty trumpet swells the maddeuing soul ...
Page 65
... Heaven . Despised , unwept you fall ; who might have left A sacred - cherish'd , sadly - pleasing name ; A name still to be utter'd with a sigh . Your last ungraceful scene has quite effaced All sense and G 3 ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH . 65.
... Heaven . Despised , unwept you fall ; who might have left A sacred - cherish'd , sadly - pleasing name ; A name still to be utter'd with a sigh . Your last ungraceful scene has quite effaced All sense and G 3 ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH . 65.
Page 66
British anthology. Your last ungraceful scene has quite effaced All sense and memory of your former worth . How to live happiest ; how avoid the pains , The disappointments , and disgusts of those Who would in pleasure all their hours ...
British anthology. Your last ungraceful scene has quite effaced All sense and memory of your former worth . How to live happiest ; how avoid the pains , The disappointments , and disgusts of those Who would in pleasure all their hours ...
Common terms and phrases
Amang Aspasio auld auld lang syne bard beneath birks of Aberfeldy blast blate blithe blood bloom bonnie bosom braes brave breast breath BRIG charms chyle Cutty-sark dear dearie death deil delight ev'n fair fame fancy Farewell fate fear flowers frae Gilpin grace green groves Halloween hear heart Heaven hope hour ilka JOHN GILPIN JOHN SHARPE labour lass lassie life's lo'es mair Mary maun mind mony morning mourn Muse Nature's ne'er never night numbers o'er owre pain peace pleasure poor pride rage roar round scenes seem'd shade shine sing skies smile song soon soul spring stream sugh sweet TAM O'SHANTER taste tears tender thee There's thine thou toil TUNE-The Twas wander waste wave weary weel Whyles wild winds winter wretch young Jessie youth
Popular passages
Page 8 - Then kneeling down to Heaven's Eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays; Hope 'springs exulting on triumphant wing,' That thus they all shall meet in future days, There ever bask in uncreated rays, No more to sigh or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise, In such society, yet still more dear, While circling Time moves round in an eternal sphere.
Page 7 - Like streamer long and gay, Till loop and button failing both, At last it flew away. Then might all people well discern The bottles he had slung, A bottle swinging at each side As hath been said or sung. The dogs did bark, the children screamed, Up flew the windows all, And every soul cried out, Well done ! As loud as he could bawl.
Page 12 - I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day, I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away, And, turning from my nursery window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu ! But was it such ? It was. Where thou art gone Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown : May I but meet thee on that peaceful shore, The parting word shall pass my lips no more...
Page 12 - Dupe of to-morrow even from a child. Thus many a sad to-morrow came and went, Till, all my stock of infant sorrow spent, I learned at last submission to my lot ; But, though I less deplored thee, ne'er forgot. Where once we dwelt our name is heard no more, Children not thine have trod my nursery floor ; And where the gardener 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...
Page 33 - I'm truly sorry man's dominion. Has broken nature's social union, An' justifies that ill opinion, Which makes thee startle At me, thy poor earth-born companion, An...
Page 33 - 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 9 - Inclined to tarry there ; For why ? — his owner had a house Full ten miles off, at Ware. So like an arrow swift he flew, Shot by an archer strong ; So did he fly — which brings me to The middle of my song. Away went Gilpin out of breath, And sore against his will, Till at his friend the calender's His horse at last stood still.
Page 30 - Thy snawie bosom sun-ward spread, Thou lifts thy unassuming head In humble guise; But now the share uptears thy bed, And low thou lies! Such is the fate of artless maid, Sweet floweret of the rural shade ! By love's simplicity betray'd, And guileless trust, Till she, like thee, all soil'd, is laid Low i
Page 29 - 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 tears 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.
Page 30 - Unskilful he to note the card Of prudent lore, Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, And whelm him o'er! Such fate to suffering worth is...