Poems. By Mr. Gray |
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Page vii
... kind for himself . Nor fhould this advice be defpifed , because it proceeds from a perfon he but little regards ; truth being the fame , through what- ever channel it runs . After this detail , it remains to say something of the present ...
... kind for himself . Nor fhould this advice be defpifed , because it proceeds from a perfon he but little regards ; truth being the fame , through what- ever channel it runs . After this detail , it remains to say something of the present ...
Page xxxiv
... kind , The figh of forrow , and the ftreaming tears , Refiftless all , their various pow'r combin'd . In her fair hand a filver harp fhe bore , Whose magic notes , foft - warbling from the ftring , Give tranquil joy the breast ne'er ...
... kind , The figh of forrow , and the ftreaming tears , Refiftless all , their various pow'r combin'd . In her fair hand a filver harp fhe bore , Whose magic notes , foft - warbling from the ftring , Give tranquil joy the breast ne'er ...
Page xxxvi
... kind , To fnatch on high to yonder sky , The child of fancy left behind : Forgot the woes of Cambria's fatal day , By rapture's blaze impell'd , they fwell the artlefs lay . But ah in vain they ftrive to footh , With gentle arts , the ...
... kind , To fnatch on high to yonder sky , The child of fancy left behind : Forgot the woes of Cambria's fatal day , By rapture's blaze impell'd , they fwell the artlefs lay . But ah in vain they ftrive to footh , With gentle arts , the ...
Page xxxvii
... kind regard , Difpel the boift'rous ftorm that lours Deftructive on the fav'rite bard ; O watch with me his laft expiring breath , ; And fnatch him from the arms of dark , oblivious death . Hark the FATAL SISTERS + join , And with ...
... kind regard , Difpel the boift'rous ftorm that lours Deftructive on the fav'rite bard ; O watch with me his laft expiring breath , ; And fnatch him from the arms of dark , oblivious death . Hark the FATAL SISTERS + join , And with ...
Page 45
... their airy dance They leave in dust to rest . Methinks I hear , in accents low , The sportive kind reply ; Poor Moralift ! and what art thou ? A folitary fly ! D 2 Thy Thy joys no glitt'ring female meets , No hive haft.
... their airy dance They leave in dust to rest . Methinks I hear , in accents low , The sportive kind reply ; Poor Moralift ! and what art thou ? A folitary fly ! D 2 Thy Thy joys no glitt'ring female meets , No hive haft.
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Æolian againſt Bank Annuities Bard beneath bluſh breaſt breath Caernarvonshire Cambridge compenfation coufin COUNTRY CHURCH-YARD death defign defire Deſpair diftant dreft Duke of Grafton Edward Eirin ETON COLLEGE faid fame FATAL SISTERS fhade fhall fide firſt five hundred pounds fleep foft folar folemn fome fong forrow foul ftands ftate ftreaming ftrong fublime fuch Goddeſs hand Hauberk himſelf houſe Ibid James Browne King Lady laft laughing wild Love lyre majeſtic Margaret of Anjou Mary Antrobus Maſon moſt Mufe Mufic Muſe numbers o'er ODIN paffions perfon PETRARCH PINDARIC ODE pleaſe pleaſure Poet preſent publiſher Quarto Reduced Bank repoſe ſay ſeen ſhade ſhall ſhare ſhe ſmile ſome ſpread ſpring ſteep ſtrains ſtudy ſweet Talieffin TEARS OF GENIUS thee thefe theſe THOMAS GRAY thoſe thou thro Univerſity uſe verſes vifit voice wakes the dead Weave Weft Welſh whofe whoſe William Mafon
Popular passages
Page 156 - customed hill, Along the heath and near his favourite tree ; Another came ; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he : The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Page 56 - A stranger yet to pain ! I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wing My weary soul they seem to soothe, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring.
Page 100 - Fair laughs the Morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes: Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm: Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That hush'd in grim repose expects his evening prey.
Page 45 - To Contemplation's sober eye Such is the race of Man: And they that creep, and they that fly, Shall end where they began.
Page 91 - Yet shall he mount, and keep his distant way Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate. Beneath the Good how far— but far above the Great.
Page 96 - To arms ! cried Mortimer, and couch'd his quiv'ring lance.. I. 2 On a rock, whose haughty brow Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood, Robed in the sable garb of woe, With haggard eyes the Poet stood ; (Loose his beard, and hoary hair Stream'd, like a meteor, to the troubled air) And with a Master's hand, and Prophet's fire, Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre.
Page 156 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
Page 149 - THE CURFEW tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Page 60 - A grisly troop are seen, The painful family of Death, More hideous than their Queen: This racks the joints, this fires the veins, That every labouring sinew strains, Those in the deeper vitals rage: Lo!
Page 60 - Th' unfeeling for his own. Yet, ah ! why should they know their fate. Since sorrow never comes too late, And happiness too swiftly flies? Thought would destroy their paradise! No more; — where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.