Poems, Volume 1J. Johnson, 1805 |
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Page 2
... fire at their heroic deeds , Unworthy of the bleffings of the brave , Is bafe in kind , and born to be a slave . But let eternal infamy pursue The wretch to nought but his ambition true , Who , for the fake of filling with one blaft The ...
... fire at their heroic deeds , Unworthy of the bleffings of the brave , Is bafe in kind , and born to be a slave . But let eternal infamy pursue The wretch to nought but his ambition true , Who , for the fake of filling with one blaft The ...
Page 10
... fires . Patient of conftitutional controul , He bears it with meek manliness of foul ; But , if authority grow wanton , woe To him that treads upon his free - born toe ; One ftep beyond the boundary of the laws Fires him at once in ...
... fires . Patient of conftitutional controul , He bears it with meek manliness of foul ; But , if authority grow wanton , woe To him that treads upon his free - born toe ; One ftep beyond the boundary of the laws Fires him at once in ...
Page 16
... fire without the facrifice . The ftream , that feeds the well - fpring of the heart , Not more invigorates life's nobleft part , Than virtue quickens with a warmth divine The powers , that fin has brought to a decline . A. Th ...
... fire without the facrifice . The ftream , that feeds the well - fpring of the heart , Not more invigorates life's nobleft part , Than virtue quickens with a warmth divine The powers , that fin has brought to a decline . A. Th ...
Page 19
... ftrains embellish what you teach , Mean you to prophefy , or but to preach ? B. I know the mind , that feels indeed the fire The mufe imparts , and can command the lyre . Acts with a force , and kindles with a zeal TABLE TALK . 19.
... ftrains embellish what you teach , Mean you to prophefy , or but to preach ? B. I know the mind , that feels indeed the fire The mufe imparts , and can command the lyre . Acts with a force , and kindles with a zeal TABLE TALK . 19.
Page 20
... Fire indignation and a sense of scorn , The ftrings are swept with such a pow'r so loud , The ftorm of mufic fhakes ... fires to me belong ; I play with fyllables , and sport in song . A. At Weftminster , where little poets ftrive To fet ...
... Fire indignation and a sense of scorn , The ftrings are swept with such a pow'r so loud , The ftorm of mufic fhakes ... fires to me belong ; I play with fyllables , and sport in song . A. At Weftminster , where little poets ftrive To fet ...
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Common terms and phrases
abuſe againſt aſk bleffings bleft blifs breaft caufe cauſe charms Chriftian clofe cloſe courſe defign defire deſpair diftant divine dream earth eaſe Elfe eyes facred fafe faft fame faſhion fave fcene fcorn fcripture fear feek feem fenfe fhall fhining fide filent firſt fmile fome fong foon forrow foul ftand ftill ftream fuch fure fweet glory grace guife heart heaven himſelf intereft itſelf joys juft laft laſt lefs loft luft mind moft moſt mufe muft muſt never paffion peace pleaſe pleaſure poet's poffeffed praiſe pride purpoſe purſue raiſed reafon reft ſcene ſeem ſeen ſhall ſhare ſhe ſhine ſhore ſhort ſhould ſhow ſkies ſkill ſky ſmile ſpeak ſpread ſpring ſtand ſtate ſuch ſupplied ſweet tafte taſk thee thefe theme themſelves theſe thine thoſe thou thought thouſand treaſure truth uſe VINCENT BOURNE virtue wafte whofe whoſe wiſdom Worfe
Popular passages
Page 331 - He grasped the mane with both his hands And eke with all his might. His horse, who never in that sort Had handled been before, What thing upon his back had got Did wonder more and more.
Page 330 - And keep it safe and sound. Each bottle had a curling ear, Through which the belt he drew, And hung a bottle on each side, To make his balance true. Then over all, that he might be Equipped from top to toe, His long red cloak, well brushed and neat, He manfully did throw.
Page 169 - The clash of arguments and jar of words, Worse than the mortal brunt of rival swords, Decide no question with their tedious length, (For opposition gives opinion strength) Divert the champions prodigal of breath, And put the peaceably disposed to death.
Page 244 - 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 326 - JOHN GILPIN was a citizen Of credit and renown, A trainband captain eke was he Of famous London town. John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear, Though wedded we have been These twice ten tedious years, yet we No holiday have seen. To-morrow is our wedding-day, And we will then repair Unto the Bell at Edmonton All in a chaise and pair.
Page 288 - Why did all-creating Nature Make the plant for which we toil ? Sighs must fan it, tears must water, Sweat of ours must dress the soil. Think, ye masters iron-hearted, Lolling at your jovial boards ; Think how many backs have smarted For the sweets your cane affords.
Page 296 - Had cheered the village with his song, Nor yet at eve his note suspended, Nor yet when eventide was ended, Began to feel, as well he might, The keen demands of appetite ; When, looking eagerly around, He spied far off, upon the ground, A something shining in the dark, And knew the glow-worm by his spark, So stooping down from hawthorn top, He thought to put him in his crop. The worm, aware of his intent, Harangued him thus right eloquent — Did you admire my lamp...
Page 332 - Well done! As loud as he could bawl. Away went Gilpin — who but he? His fame soon spread around; He carries weight! he rides a race! 'Tis for a thousand pound!
Page 308 - Twelve years have elapsed since I last took a view Of my favourite field, and the bank where they grew ; And now in the grass behold they are laid, And the tree is my seat that once lent me a shade. The blackbird has fled to another retreat, Where the hazels afford him a screen from the heat, And the scene where his melody charm'd me before Resounds with his sweet-flowing ditty no more.
Page 245 - 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.