The Poetical Works of Campbell, Goldsmith, and Gray: With Memoirs of the Authors

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T. Nelson and sons, 1870 - Всего страниц: 445
 

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Стр. 284 - I still had hopes, my latest hours to crown, Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down; To husband out life's taper at the close, And keep the flame from wasting by repose : I still had hopes, for pride attends us still, Amidst the swains to show my...
Стр. 282 - Sweet smiling village, loveliest of the lawn, Thy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn: Amidst thy bowers the tyrant's hand is seen, And desolation saddens all thy green: One only master grasps the whole domain, And half a tillage stints thy smiling plain.
Стр. 379 - Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind, The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride With incense kindled at the Muse's flame.
Стр. 395 - He pass'd the flaming bounds of place and time : The living throne, the sapphire blaze, Where angels tremble while they gaze, He saw ; but, blasted with excess of light, Closed his eyes in endless night.
Стр. 378 - But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page Rich with the spoils of time did ne'er unroll ; Chill Penury repress'd their noble rage. And froze the genial current of the soul.
Стр. 280 - How often have I blest the coming day, When toil remitting lent its turn to play, And all the village train, from labour free, Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree ; While many a pastime circled in the shade, The young contending as the old surveyed ; And many a gambol frolicked o'er the ground, And sleights of art and feats of strength went round...
Стр. 289 - There, in his noisy mansion, skill'd to rule, The village master taught his little school ; A man severe he was, and stern to view, I knew him well, and every truant knew ; Well had the boding tremblers learn'd to trace The day's disasters in his morning face ; Full well they laugh'd with counterfeited glee At all his jokes, for many a joke had he...
Стр. 234 - There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins of any living creature. This called on me for revenge. I have sought it ; I have killed many.; I have fully glutted my vengeance.
Стр. 286 - The sober herd that lowed to meet their young; The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, The playful children just let loose from school...
Стр. 327 - And curs of low degree. This dog and man at first were friends ; But when a pique- began, The dog, to gain some private ends, Went mad and bit the man. Around, from all the...

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