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Akenside ancient appears arms awful beauty behold bosom breast breath bring cause charms dark death deep delight desire divine dread earth edition eternal fair faithful fame Fancy fate fear fire flame genius give glory groves hand happy hear heart heaven honour hope hour human Imagination kind land laws letter light look mind morn mortal move Muse nature Nature's never night o'er objects once pain passions path peace plain pleasing pleasure poem poet praise present pride printed published rage reason rise round sacred says scene sense shade smiles song sons soon soul sound springs steps strain stream sublime sweet tell thee things thou thought throne toil tongue truth turn various verse virtue voice youth
Page 20 - But who the melodies of morn can tell? The wild brook babbling down the mountain side ; The lowing herd ; the sheepfold's simple bell ; The pipe of early shepherd dim descried In the lone valley ; echoing far and wide The clamorous horn along the cliffs above ; The hollow murmur of the ocean tide ; The hum of bees, the linnet's lay of love, And the full choir that wakes the universal grove.
Page xxxvii - The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields; All that the genial ray of morning gilds, And all that echoes to the song of even, All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, And all the dread magnificence of heaven, O how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven ! X.
Page 187 - The powers of man; we feel within ourselves His energy divine; he tells the heart, He meant, he made us to behold and love What he beholds and loves, the general orb 627 Of life and being ; to be great like him, Beneficent and active.
Page 185 - Hence, when lightning fires The arch of heaven, and thunders rock the ground, When furious whirlwinds rend the howling air, And ocean, groaning from his lowest bed, Heaves his tempestuous billows to the sky ; Amid the mighty uproar, while below The nations tremble, SHAKSPEARE looks abroad From some high cliff, superior, and enjoys The elemental war.
Page xix - Not long ago, I began a poem in the style and stanza of Spenser, in which I propose to give full scope to my inclination, and be either droll or pathetic, descriptive or sentimental, tender or satirical, as the humour strikes me; for, if I mistake not, the measure which I have adopted admits equally of all these kinds of composition.
Page 38 - Let Vanity adorn the marble tomb With trophies, rhymes, and scutcheons of renown, In the deep dungeon of some gothic dome, Where night and desolation ever frown. Mine be the breezy hill that skirts the down; Where a green grassy turf is all I crave, With here and there a violet bestrown, Fast by a brook, or fountain's murmuring wave; And many an evening sun shine sweetly on my grave.
Page 27 - Thence musing onward to the sounding shore, The lone enthusiast oft would take his way, Listening with pleasing dread to the deep roar Of the wide-weltering waves. In black array When sulphurous clouds...
Page 136 - Nature, to the range Of planets, suns, and adamantine spheres, Wheeling unshaken through the void immense; And speak, oh man! does this capacious scene With half that kindling majesty dilate Thy strong conception, as when Brutus rose Refulgent from the stroke of...
Page 10 - An honest heart was almost all his stock ; His drink the living water from the rock : The milky dams supplied his board, and lent Their kindly fleece to baffle winter's shock ; And he, though oft with dust and sweat besprent, Did guide and guard their wanderings, wheresoe'er they went.
Page 123 - Imagination's tender frame, From nerve to nerve; all naked and alive They catch the spreading rays; till now the soul At length discloses every tuneful spring, To that harmonious movement from without Responsive. Then the inexpressive strain Diffuses its enchantment: Fancy dreams Of sacred fountains and Elysian groves, And vales of bliss...