PoemsPhillips, Sampson, & Company, 1854 |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 100
Page 22
... never hides his face , ) Two or three millions of the human race , And not a tongue inquires , how , where , or when , Though conscience will have twinges now and then ; When profanation of the sacred cause , 426 In all its parts ...
... never hides his face , ) Two or three millions of the human race , And not a tongue inquires , how , where , or when , Though conscience will have twinges now and then ; When profanation of the sacred cause , 426 In all its parts ...
Page 23
... mind that feels indeed the fire 450 The muse imparts , and can command the lyre , Acts with a force and kindles with a zeal , Whato'er the theme , that others never feel . If humin woes her soft attention claim , A tender TABLE TALK . 23.
... mind that feels indeed the fire 450 The muse imparts , and can command the lyre , Acts with a force and kindles with a zeal , Whato'er the theme , that others never feel . If humin woes her soft attention claim , A tender TABLE TALK . 23.
Page 29
... never drawing bit , He struck the lyre in such a careless mood , And so disdain'd the rules he understood , The laurel seem'd to wait on his command , He snatch'd it rudely from the muses ' hand . Nature , exerting an unwearied pow'r ...
... never drawing bit , He struck the lyre in such a careless mood , And so disdain'd the rules he understood , The laurel seem'd to wait on his command , He snatch'd it rudely from the muses ' hand . Nature , exerting an unwearied pow'r ...
Page 42
... never read , But , being canker'd now and half worn out , Craze antiquarian brains with endless doubt ; Some headless hero , or some Cæsar shows- 390 395 Defective only in his Roman nose ; Exhibits elevations , drawings , plans , Models ...
... never read , But , being canker'd now and half worn out , Craze antiquarian brains with endless doubt ; Some headless hero , or some Cæsar shows- 390 395 Defective only in his Roman nose ; Exhibits elevations , drawings , plans , Models ...
Page 48
... never can , That never ought to be the lot of man . But , muse , forbear ; long flights forcbode a fall ; Strike on the deep - ton'd chord the sum of all . C05 Hear the just law - the judgment of the skies ! He that hates truth shall be ...
... never can , That never ought to be the lot of man . But , muse , forbear ; long flights forcbode a fall ; Strike on the deep - ton'd chord the sum of all . C05 Hear the just law - the judgment of the skies ! He that hates truth shall be ...
Contents
11 | |
32 | |
49 | |
65 | |
85 | |
106 | |
124 | |
149 | |
171 | |
178 | |
184 | |
191 | |
195 | |
201 | |
208 | |
215 | |
221 | |
232 | |
242 | |
7 | |
151 | |
180 | |
191 | |
200 | |
206 | |
63 | |
74 | |
82 | |
94 | |
147 | |
153 | |
161 | |
168 | |
176 | |
189 | |
203 | |
217 | |
230 | |
236 | |
242 | |
249 | |
256 | |
262 | |
269 | |
276 | |
282 | |
289 | |
295 | |
296 | |
309 | |
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
Aspasio beauty beneath boast breast breath call'd cause charms Cowper daugh dear death delight design'd divine dread dream e'en earth Eartham ease East Dereham ev'ry eyes fair fancy fear feel flow'rs folly form'd give glory grace groves hand Happisburgh happy hast Hayley heard heart Heav'n honour hope human Iliad John Gilpin labour lady Hesketh live lov'd lyre magick mind muse musick nature Nature's Nebaioth never Newport Pagnel night nymphs o'er once pain pass'd peace perhaps pleas'd pleasure poem poet poet's pow'r praise pray'r prove publick rest rude sacred scene scorn seem'd shade shine sighs sight skies smile song soon soul sound spirit stamp'd stream sweet taste thee theme thine thought toil truth Twas Unwin verse VINCENT BOURNE virtue voice waste WILLIAM COWPER wind wisdom wisely store worth youth
Popular passages
Page 239 - My head is twice as big as yours, They therefore needs must fit. But let me scrape the dirt away That hangs upon your face ; And stop and eat, for well you may Be in a hungry case. Said John, It is my wedding-day, And all the world would stare, If wife should dine at Edmonton, And I should dine at Ware.
Page 30 - Just estimation prized above all price, I had much rather be myself the slave And wear the bonds, than fasten them on him.
Page 178 - I AM monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute ; From the centre all round to the sea, I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
Page 182 - A thousand other themes less deeply traced. Thy nightly visits to my chamber made, That thou might'st know me safe and warmly laid ; Thy morning bounties ere I left my home, The biscuit, or confectionary plum...
Page 112 - Toll for the brave ! Brave Kempenfelt is gone ; His last sea-fight is fought ; His work of glory done. It was not in the battle ; No tempest gave the shock ; She sprang no fatal leak ; She ran upon no rock.
Page 251 - 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 strife, Supported by despair of life.
Page 77 - Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, And while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups, That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
Page 182 - 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 ? It was. Where thou art gone Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown. May I but meet thee on that peaceful shore, The parting word shall pass my lips no more ! Thy maidens, grieved themselves at my concern, Oft gave me promise of thy quick return.
Page 178 - Lord of the fowl and the brute. 0 Solitude ! where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face? Better dwell in the midst of alarms Than reign in this horrible place. 1 am out of humanity's reach, I must finish my journey alone, Never hear the sweet music of speech, I start at the sound of my own. The beasts that roam over the plain, My form with indifference see, They are so unacquainted with man, Their tameness is shocking to me.
Page 125 - The night was winter in his roughest mood; The morning sharp and clear. But now at noon Upon the southern side of the slant hills, And where the woods fence off the northern blast, The season smiles, resigning all its rage, And has the warmth of May. The vault is blue Without a cloud, and white without a speck The dazzling splendour of the scene below.