The Book of Gems: Pomfret to BloomfieldSamuel Carter Hall Saunders and Otley, 1837 - English poetry |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 39
Page 12
... scene , to represent How those I love my death lament . Poor Pope will grieve a month , and Gay A week , and Arbuthnot a day . St. John himself will scarce forbear To bite his pen , and drop a tear . The rest will give a shrug , and cry ...
... scene , to represent How those I love my death lament . Poor Pope will grieve a month , and Gay A week , and Arbuthnot a day . St. John himself will scarce forbear To bite his pen , and drop a tear . The rest will give a shrug , and cry ...
Page 25
... scenes of gay delight , Is but a landscape rudely drawn , With glaring colours , and false light ; Distance commends it to the sight , For fools to gaze upon ; But bring the nauseous daubing nigh , Coarse and confus'd the hideous ...
... scenes of gay delight , Is but a landscape rudely drawn , With glaring colours , and false light ; Distance commends it to the sight , For fools to gaze upon ; But bring the nauseous daubing nigh , Coarse and confus'd the hideous ...
Page 42
... scene . If not so frequent , would not this be strange ? That ' tis so frequent , this is stranger still . Of man's miraculous mistakes , this bears The palm , " That all men are about to live , " For ever on the brink of being born ...
... scene . If not so frequent , would not this be strange ? That ' tis so frequent , this is stranger still . Of man's miraculous mistakes , this bears The palm , " That all men are about to live , " For ever on the brink of being born ...
Page 43
... scene . If not so frequent , would not this be strange ? That ' tis so frequent , this is stranger still . Of man's miraculous mistakes , this bears The palm , " That all men are about to live , " For ever on the brink of being born ...
... scene . If not so frequent , would not this be strange ? That ' tis so frequent , this is stranger still . Of man's miraculous mistakes , this bears The palm , " That all men are about to live , " For ever on the brink of being born ...
Page 47
... scenes , Beyond the flaming limits of the world , Her gloomy flight . But what avails the flight Of fancy , when our hearts remain below ? Virtue abounds in flatteries and foes ; ' Tis pride to praise her ; penance to perform . To more ...
... scenes , Beyond the flaming limits of the world , Her gloomy flight . But what avails the flight Of fancy , when our hearts remain below ? Virtue abounds in flatteries and foes ; ' Tis pride to praise her ; penance to perform . To more ...
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
appear Auld Robin Gray beauty behold beneath blest born bosom breast breath character charms cheerful clouds Cutty-sark dear death delight died divine Simplicity earth elegant Epic Poetry ETON COLLEGE ev'n ev'ry fair fame fancy fate father flowers frae genius gentle glory grace grave green Grongar Hill groves hand happy heart Heaven hills holy orders honour hour labour light live lyre maid merit mind Monody mourn Muse nature Nature's ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er Oliver Goldsmith pain passions plain pleasure poem poet poetical poetry praise pride produced proud rage Robert Bloomfield round sacred scene shade smile song soon soul spirit Spleen spring stream sweet taste tears tender thee thine thou thought toil truth University of Edinburgh vale verse virtue wave wild wind wings wyllowe youth
Popular passages
Page 87 - THESE, as they change, ALMIGHTY FATHER, these Are but the varied GOD ! The rolling year Is full of Thee. Forth in the pleasing Spring Thy beauty walks, Thy tenderness and love. Wide flush the fields; the softening air is balm ; Echo the mountains round; the forest smiles ; And every sense, and every heart, is joy.
Page 35 - tis madness to defer: Next day the fatal precedent will plead ; Thus on, till wisdom is push'd out of life. Procrastination is the thief of time; Year after year it steals, till all are fled, And to the mercies of a moment leaves The vast concerns of an eternal scene.
Page 87 - With light and heat refulgent. Then thy sun Shoots full perfection through the swelling year; And oft thy voice in dreadful thunder speaks: And oft at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve, By brooks and groves, in hollow-whispering gales.
Page 154 - To fair Fidele's grassy tomb Soft maids and village hinds shall bring Each opening sweet of earliest bloom, And rifle all the breathing spring. No wailing ghost shall dare appear To vex with shrieks this quiet grove: But shepherd lads assemble here, And melting virgins own their love. No...
Page 146 - * And give to rapture all thy trembling strings. From Helicon's harmonious springs A thousand rills their mazy progress take: The laughing flowers that round them blow, Drink life and fragrance as they flow. Now the rich stream of music winds along, Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong, Through verdant vales, and Ceres...
Page 263 - O'er a' the ills o' life victorious! But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed; Or like the...
Page 58 - To wake the soul by tender strokes of art, To raise the genius, and to mend the heart, To make mankind, in conscious virtue bold, Live o'er each scene, and be what they behold...
Page 88 - The impetuous song, and say from whom you rage. His praise, ye brooks, attune, ye trembling rills; And let me catch it as I muse along. Ye headlong torrents, rapid and profound; Ye softer floods, that lead the humid maze Along the vale; and thou, majestic main, A secret world of wonders in thyself, Sound His stupendous praise, whose greater voice Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings fall. So roll your incense, herbs, and fruits, and flowers, In mingled clouds to Him, whose sun exalts, Whose breath...
Page 208 - 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?
Page 269 - Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear, Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear ; Thou art sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet, And soft as their parting tear — Jessy ! ALTHO' thou maun never be mine, Altho...