A Collection of Poems, Volume 2 |
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arms bards bear beauty beneath bleft bliſs breaſt cauſe charms claim court delight divine earth eaſe Edward EPIGRAM Ev'n eyes fair falſe fame fate fear feel fire firſt flame flow fond force gentle give glorious glory grace hand happy head hear heart heav'n Hence honour hope hour human kind king knight laws liberty light lord means mind moſt move Muſe muſt nature nature's never noble o'er once pain paſſion peace plain pleaſe pleaſure pow'r praiſe pride prince rage reaſon riſe round rule ſacred ſee ſenſe ſhade ſhall ſhe ſhould ſmile ſome ſoul ſtate ſtill ſuch ſweet tears tell thee theſe thine thoſe thou thought throne toils train truth vain virtue voice wealth whoſe wiſe youth
Popular passages
Page 267 - Gainst graver hours, that bring constraint To sweeten liberty: Some bold adventurers disdain The limits of their little reign And unknown regions dare descry: Still as they run they look behind, They hear a voice in every wind, And snatch a fearful joy.
Page 269 - That every labouring sinew strains, Those in the deeper vitals rage: Lo! Poverty, to fill the band, That numbs the soul with icy hand, And slow-consuming Age. To each his sufferings: all are men, Condemned alike to groan; The tender for another's pain, Th
Page 271 - 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 43 - Seek to be good, but aim not to be great: A woman's noblest station is retreat; Her fairest virtues fly from public sight, Domestic worth, that shuns too strong a light.
Page 79 - Though meek, magnanimous; though witty, wise; Polite, as all her life in courts had been ; Yet good, as she the world had never seen ; The noble fire of an exalted mind, With gentle female tenderness combin'd.
Page 266 - 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 76 - With pledges dear, and with a father's tender name. O best of wives ! O dearer far to me Than when thy virgin charms Were yielded to my arms, How can my soul endure the loss of thee?
Page 260 - For he, deep-judging sage, beheld With pain the triumphs of the field : And when the charioteer drew nigh, And, flush'd with hope, had caught his eye,
Page 73 - E'en for the kid or lamb that pour'd its life Beneath the bloody knife, Her gentle tears would fall, Tears from sweet virtue's source, benevolent to all.
Page 68 - In vain I look around O'er all the well-known ground, My Lucy's wonted footsteps to descry ; Where oft we us'd to walk, Where oft in tender talk We saw the summer Sun go down the sky...