The Task: And Other Poems

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Carey and Hart, 1845 - 324 pages
 

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Page 261 - 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 231 - Then the progeny that springs From the forests of our land, Armed with thunder, clad with wings, Shall a wider world command. 'Regions Caesar never knew Thy posterity shall sway, Where his eagles never flew, None invincible as they.
Page 36 - I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd.
Page 48 - What ! will a man play tricks, will he indulge A silly fond conceit of his fair form And just proportion, fashionable mien And pretty face, in presence of his God ? Or will he seek to dazzle me with tropes, As with the diamond on his lily hand, And play his brilliant parts before my eyes, When I am hungry for the bread of life ? He mocks his Maker, prostitutes and shames His noble office, and, instead of truth, Displaying his own beauty, starves his flock. Therefore avaunt all attitude, and stare,...
Page 230 - Sage beneath the spreading oak Sat the Druid, hoary chief: Every burning word he spoke Full of rage, and full of grief. ' Princess ! if our aged eyes Weep upon thy matchless wrongs, 'Tis because resentment ties All the terrors of our tongues. ' Rome shall perish ! — write that word In the blood that she has spilt: Perish, hopeless and abhorr'd, Deep in ruin as in guilt.
Page 96 - Made vocal for the amusement of the rest ; The sprightly lyre, whose treasure of sweet sounds The touch from many a trembling chord shakes out ; And the clear voice symphonious, yet distinct, And in the charming strife triumphant still, Beguile the night, and set a keener edge On female industry ; the threaded steel Flies swiftly, and unfelt the task proceeds.
Page 20 - Within the twilight of their distant shades ; There, lost behind a rising ground, the wood Seems sunk, and shorten'd to its topmost boughs. No tree in all the grove but has its charms, Though each its hue peculiar...
Page 66 - My panting side was charged, when I withdrew To seek a tranquil death in distant shades. There was I found by one who had Himself Been hurt by th
Page 36 - Slaves cannot breathe in England ; if their lungs Receive our air, that moment they are free, They touch our country, and their shackles fall.
Page 140 - Thou art the source and centre of all minds, Their only point of rest, eternal Word ! From thee departing they are lost, and rove At random without honour, hope, or peace. From thee is all that soothes the life of man, His high endeavour, and his glad success, His strength to suffer, and his will to serve.

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