The Life, and Posthumous Writings, of William Cowper, Esqr, Volume 3Benjamin Johnson, Jacob Johnson, and Robert Johnson [Benjamin Johnson, printer], 1805 |
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accomplished Adieu admirable affection affectionate afflicted amiable amuse appeared attention blank verse character charm cheerful church composition conversation Courteney Cowper DEAR FRIEND dearest dejected delight Dereham distressing Eartham endeared endeavoured Esquire esteem excellent expressed faculties favourite feel felt four Ages friendship genius give graceful happy heart Homer honour hope Iliad John Throckmorton Johnson justly kind labour Lady Hesketh Lord Thurlow Louis Racine malady Mary melancholy ment mental merit Milton mind Miss Perowne moral Mundsley nature never observe occasion Odyssey Paradise Lost passage peculiar perfectly perhaps person piety pleasure Plutarch poem poet poetical poetry Pope powers praise present prove reader reason received rejoice remarkable scene seems sensibility Sir Robert Austen spirit sufferings talents Task tender thee thing thorough-bass thou tion translation truth Unwin verse W. C. LETTER Weston whig WILLIAM HAYLEY wish write young kinsman
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Page 102 - Thy silver locks, once auburn bright, Are still more lovely in my sight Than golden beams of orient light, My Mary ! For, could I view nor them nor thee, What sight worth seeing could I see ? The sun would rise in vain for me, My Mary ! Partakers of thy sad decline, Thy hands their little force resign ; Yet gently prest, press gently mine, My Mary!
Page 118 - semblance in another's case. No voice divine the storm allay'd, No- light propitious shone; When, snatch'd from all effectual aid, We perish'd each alone : But I beneath a rougher sea, And whelm'd in deeper gulfs than he.
Page 102 - My Mary ! And should my future lot be cast With much resemblance of, the past, Thy worn-out heart will break at last, My Mary ! ON THE ICE ISLANDS, SEEN FLOATING IN THE GERMAN 'JO.
Page 163 - But he, who knew what human hearts would prove, How slow to learn the dictates of his love, That, hard by nature and of stubborn will, A life of ease would make them harder still, In pity to the souls his grace design'd To rescue from the ruins of mankind, Call'd for a cloud to darken all their years, And said, " Go, spend them in the vale of tears.
Page 117 - Obscurest night involved the sky, The Atlantic billows roared, When such a destined wretch as I, Washed headlong from on board, Of friends, of hope, of all bereft, His floating home forever left.
Page 154 - He looks abroad into the varied field Of nature, and, though poor perhaps, compared With those whose mansions glitter in his sight, Calls the delightful scenery all his own. His are the mountains, and the valleys his, And the resplendent rivers. His to enjoy With a propriety that none can feel, But who, with filial confidence inspired, Can lift to heaven an unpresumptuous eye, And smiling say —
Page 151 - Now that I talk of authors, how do you like Cowper? Is not the Task a glorious poem! The religion of the Task, bating a few scraps of Calvinistic divinity, is the religion of God and Nature — the religion that exalts, that ennobles man.
Page 191 - Squire's command as his dogs and horses. For this reason the bell is often kept tolling, and the people waiting in the church-yard an hour longer than the usual time ; nor must the service begin till the Squire has strutted up the aisle, and seated himself in the great pew in the chancel.
Page 117 - Atlantic billows roared, When such a destined wretch as I, Washed headlong from on board, Of friends, of hope, of all bereft, His floating home for ever left. No braver chief could Albion boast Than he with whom he went, Nor ever ship left Albion's coast With warmer wishes sent. He loved them both, but both in vain, Nor him beheld, nor her again. Not long beneath the whelming brine, Expert to swim, he lay; Nor soon he felt his strength decline, Or courage die away; But waged with death a lasting...
Page 168 - Pope, as harmony itself exact, In verse well disciplined, complete, compact, Gave virtue and morality a grace, That, quite eclipsing pleasure's painted face, Levied a tax of wonder and applause, Even on the fools that trampled on their laws. But he (his musical finesse was such, So nice his ear, so delicate his touch) Made poetry a mere mechanic art; And every warbler has his tune by heart.