What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
answer appeared asked beautiful believe better body Bryan called carried coming course court dear death door English eyes face fact father feeling followed garden gave George Gifford Gilbert girl give gone half hand happy head heard heart hope hour Isabel John keep kind king knew lady leave less light lived London looked manner married matter means mind Miss morning Moyle nature never night Noel once Pall Mall passed pastoral Paul perhaps person poor present pretty round seemed seen side Sigismund Sleaford society soon speak story strange Street talk tell thing thought told took town turned voice walked whole wife window wish woman wonder young
Page 84 - Thus groan the old, till by disease oppress'd, They taste a final woe, and then they rest. Theirs is yon House that holds the parish poor, Whose walls of mud scarce bear the broken door ; There, where the putrid vapours, flagging, play, And the dull wheel hums doleful through the day; — • There children dwell who know no parents...
Page 72 - I SHALL not ask Jean Jacques Rousseau,* If birds confabulate or no ; 'Tis clear, that they were always able To hold discourse, at least in fable ; And e'en the child, who knows no better Than to interpret by the letter, A story of a cock and bull, Must have a most uncommon skull. It...
Page 80 - There is something in the poetical Arcadia so remote from known reality and speculative possibility that we can never support its representation through a long work. A pastoral of an hundred lines may be endured, but who will hear of sheep and goats, and myrtle bowers and purling rivulets, through five acts?
Page 224 - LORD, who hast taught us that all our doings without charity are nothing worth ; send thy HOLY GHOST, and pour into our hearts that most excellent gift of charity, the very bond of peace, and of all virtues ; without which, whosoever liveth is counted dead before thee : Grant this for thine only Son JESUS CHRIST'S sake. Amen.
Page 84 - Their country's beauty or their nymphs' rehearse; Yet still for these we frame the tender strain, Still in our lays fond Corydons complain, And shepherds' boys their amorous pains reveal, The only pains, alas ! they never feel.
Page 83 - His joys unreckon'i as his cares or woes , Though joys and cares in every path are sown, And youthful minds have feelings of their own, Quick springing sorrows, transient as the dew, Delights from trifles, trifles ever new.
Page 84 - Where other cares than those the Muse relates, And other shepherds dwell with other mates ; By such examples taught, I paint the Cot, As Truth...
Page 81 - Twas with pain that she saw me depart. She gaz'd, as I slowly withdrew; My path I could hardly discern; So sweetly she bade me adieu, I thought that she bade me return.
Page 84 - On Mincio's banks, in Caesar's bounteous reign, If Tityrus found the Golden Age again, Must sleepy bards the flattering dream prolong, Mechanic echoes of the Mantuan song? From Truth and Nature shall we widely stray, Where Virgil, not where Fancy, leads the way? Yes, thus the Muses sing of happy swains, Because the Muses never knew their pains: They boast their peasants...
Page 346 - Are we condemn'd by fate's unjust decree, No more our houses and our homes to see ? Or shall we mount again the rural throne, And rule the country kingdoms once our own ; Did we for these barbarians plant and sow ? On these, on these, our happy fields bestow ? Good heaven ! what dire effects from civil discord flow. Now let me graft my pears and prune the vine ; The fruit is theirs, the labor only mine.