The Poetical Register, and Repository of Fugitive Poetry for 1801-11, Volume 2F.C. & J. Rivington, 1803 |
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Página 34
... liver . 4 . In vain , alas , the shield I bear , Nor corslet guards , nor spear avails me : No more of outward arms I care , For ah , within the foe assails me ! HYMN TO FRIENDSHIP . FRIENDSHIP ! let thy myrtle twine 17944 34.
... liver . 4 . In vain , alas , the shield I bear , Nor corslet guards , nor spear avails me : No more of outward arms I care , For ah , within the foe assails me ! HYMN TO FRIENDSHIP . FRIENDSHIP ! let thy myrtle twine 17944 34.
Página 36
... Vain promise ! he declines , and lo ! Frowning in the garb of woe , The fen - born vapours scowl , and lour With horror , on the lonely hour . Ne'er with flatt'ring words and vain Wilt thou intoxicate the brain ; Nor those who in thy ...
... Vain promise ! he declines , and lo ! Frowning in the garb of woe , The fen - born vapours scowl , and lour With horror , on the lonely hour . Ne'er with flatt'ring words and vain Wilt thou intoxicate the brain ; Nor those who in thy ...
Página 42
Or burn the porridge to the pot next day , In vain for this poor barefoot friar they lay A peter - penny on the clean swept floor , Or put an ouzle's egg behind the door . Heedless he passes , but with sprigs of rue Flings on the ...
Or burn the porridge to the pot next day , In vain for this poor barefoot friar they lay A peter - penny on the clean swept floor , Or put an ouzle's egg behind the door . Heedless he passes , but with sprigs of rue Flings on the ...
Página 58
... , of a drizzling cold December morn , Before ' tis light , when sounds the echoing horn Why do they , shiv'ring by some covert's side With vain pretence the piercing cold deride ? Then at a distance still pursue the pack , Till 58.
... , of a drizzling cold December morn , Before ' tis light , when sounds the echoing horn Why do they , shiv'ring by some covert's side With vain pretence the piercing cold deride ? Then at a distance still pursue the pack , Till 58.
Página 59
... vain as they To boast the mighty honors of the day ? Why do these men , on London's proud parade , Their cars in all the rainbow's hues array'd , Till the sight wearies , drive them to and fro Why but their tinsel trappings still to ...
... vain as they To boast the mighty honors of the day ? Why do these men , on London's proud parade , Their cars in all the rainbow's hues array'd , Till the sight wearies , drive them to and fro Why but their tinsel trappings still to ...
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The Poetical Register, and Repository of Fugitive Poetry for 1801-11, Volume 2 Visualização completa - 1803 |
The Poetical Register, and Repository of Fugitive Poetry for 1801-11, Volume 2 Visualização completa - 1803 |
Termos e frases comuns
Almer ANNA SEWARD beam beauty beneath blest bloom bosom bowers breast breath bright charms clouds cold dark dear death deep delight dread Dundrennan Abbey EDMUND L EPIGRAM fair fame Fancy fate fear fond frown gay bowers gentle glow grace grave grief hail hand hear heart Heaven hope hour LEFTLY light lonely lov'd Lupercio lyre maid MARISCHAL COLLEGE Metastasio mind Monody mourn Muse ne'er NEREID night numbers o'er pale peace plain pleasure poem pow'r praise pride R. A. Davenport rapture rise round sacred scene shade shine shore sighs smile soft song SONNET sorrow soul spirit storm strain stream sweet SWIFT SYLPH SYLPHIL tear tender thee thine thou thro toil tomb trembling vale verse Village Maid VIRGIL'S TOMB virtue vision of delight wave weep wild winds youth
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 229 - ON Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat, at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Página 191 - And I saw no temple therein: for the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple of it. And the city had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it: for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof.
Página 400 - 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.
Página 306 - HAST thou a charm to stay the morning-star In his steep course ? So long he seems to pause On thy bald awful head, O sovran BLANC ! The Arve and Arveiron at thy base Rave ceaselessly ; but thou, most awful Form ! Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently ! Around thee and above Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass : methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge ! But when I look again...
Página 308 - Ye Ice-falls! ye that from the mountain's brow Adown enormous ravines slope amain Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge! Motionless torrents! silent cataracts! Who made you glorious as the Gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? GOD! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, GOD!
Página 190 - And I will multiply the fruit of the tree, and the increase of the field, that ye shall receive no more reproach of famine among the heathen.
Página 230 - Tis morn ; but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulphurous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory or the grave ! Wave, Munich ! all thy banners wave, And charge with all thy chivalry! Few, few shall part where many meet...
Página 183 - And when all the children of Israel saw how the fire came down, and the glory of the Lord upon the house, they bowed themselves with their faces to the ground upon the pavement, and worshipped, and praised the Lord, saying, For he is good ; for his mercy endureth for ever.
Página 307 - Arve and Arveiron at thy base Rave ceaselessly; but thou, most awful Form! Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently! Around thee and above Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass: methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge! But when I look again, It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, Thy habitation from eternity! 0 dread and silent Mount! I gazed upon thee, Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, Didst vanish from my thought: entranced in prayer 1...
Página 183 - And the house, when it was in building, was built of stone made ready before it was brought thither : so that there was neither hammer nor axe nor any tool of iron heard in the house, while it was in building.