What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
Miscellaneous Selections and Original Pieces: In Prose and Verse; Consisting ...
No preview available - 2015
absent friends amusement appear Arbuthnot beautiful bosom breast breath bright castle charms clouds countess of Pembroke dear death delightful Earl earth EDGAR elegant fair fall Fauchon feel feet friendship grace groves hand hanging woods happy head heart heaven hill Hoddom hour Italy Lady Lady Ann Clifford lake light live look louis d'ors magnificent Major H marble Marquis memory ment Michael Bruce miles mind Monticello moun mountains mourn nature never night noble nymphs o'er objects passed peace Peterhead plain pleasing pleasure poet prospect quadrille rays rising river rocks round ruins scene shade shew side Sir Walter Scott smile soldier sorrow soul spirit stream summit sweet tains taste tears temple thee thou thunder tion tower trees vale Vaucluse village virtue walk waves weep Wentworth House whip-poor-will whole winding wood youth
Page 148 - All the images of nature were still present to him, and he drew them, not laboriously, but luckily; when he describes anything, you more than see it, you feel it too. Those who accuse him to have wanted learning give him the greater commendation: he was naturally learned; he needed not the spectacles of books to read nature; he looked inwards and found her there.
Page 89 - How sleep the brave who sink to rest By all their country's wishes blest! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung, By forms unseen their dirge is sung; There Honour comes, a pilgrim grey, To bless the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there!
Page 73 - Spring, thy Summer's ardent strength, Thy sober Autumn fading into age, And pale concluding Winter comes at last, And shuts the scene. Ah ! whither now are fled Those dreams of greatness ? those unsolid hopes Of happiness ? those longings after fame ? Those restless cares ? those busy bustling days ? Those gay-spent, festive nights? those veering thoughts, Lost between good and ill, that shared thy life ? All now are vanish'd ! Virtue sole survives, Immortal never-failing friend of man, His guide...
Page 140 - Or e'en imaginary worth obtains, Here passes current ; paid from hand to hand, It shifts, in splendid traffic, round the land: From courts to camps, to cottages it strays, And all are taught an avarice of praise; They please, are pleas'd, they give to get esteem, Till, seeming blest, they grow to what they seem.
Page 6 - Mr. Jefferson is the first American who has consulted the fine arts to know how he should shelter himself from the weather.
Page 203 - Farewell, ye blooming fields ! ye cheerful plains ! Enough for me the church-yard's lonely mound, Where Melancholy with still Silence reigns, And the rank grass waves o'er the cheerless ground.
Page 73 - Tis done! dread Winter spreads his latest glooms, And reigns tremendous o'er the conquer'd year. How dead the vegetable kingdom lies ! How dumb the tuneful ! horror wide extends His desolate domain.
Page 74 - Ye vainly wise! ye blind presumptuous! now, Confounded in the dust, adore that Power, And Wisdom oft arraign'd: see now the cause, Why unassuming worth in secret liv'd, And died neglected ; why the good man's share In life was gall and bitterness of soul...
Page 148 - I cannot say he is every where alike ; were he so, I should do him injury to compare him with the greatest of mankind. He is many times flat, insipid ; his comic wit degenerating into clenches, his serious swelling into bombast. But he is always great, when some great occasion is presented to him...
Page 74 - In starving solitude; while luxury In palaces lay straining her low thought To form unreal wants: why heaven-born truth And moderation fair wore the red marks Of superstition's scourge; why licensed pain, That cruel spoiler, that embosomed foe, Embittered all our bliss.