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beauty behold beneath bless blest bliss bloom bosom bower Bramble brave breast breath bright charms cheek cries crown'd DAVID GARRICK dear death delight ECLOGUE eyes fair fame fancy fantastick fate fear fire flame flow flow'd flowers fond glow grace grief groan grove hand happy haste hear heart Heaven hey derry honour hour JAMES BOSWELL JOSEPH WARTON labour light live Lord lover magick maid mind morn mournful Muse NATHANIEL COTTON Nature's ne'er night numbers o'er pain pale passion peace pensive pleasure Poems poison'd praise pride rage RICHARD GLOVER rise ROBERT SOUTHEY rose round scene shade shore sigh sight skies smile Soame Jenyns soft song SONNET sorrow soul strain stream sweet tears tender thee thine THOMAS BLACKLOCK thou thought thro toil trembling true lover's knot truth Twas virtue Yarrow youth
Page 81 - Ye friends to truth, ye statesmen who survey The rich man's joys increase, the poor's decay, 'Tis yours to judge, how wide the limits stand Between a splendid and a happy land.
Page 479 - I would not trust my heart; — the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might. — But no— what here we call our life is such, So little to be loved, and thou so much, That I should ill requite thee to constrain Thy unbound spirit into bonds again.
Page 393 - In forest, brake or den, As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude ; Men who their duties know, But know their rights, and, knowing, dare maintain, Prevent the long-aimed blow, And crush the tyrant while they rend the chain ; These constitute a State; And sovereign law, that State's collected will, O'er thrones and globes elate Sits empress, crowning good, repressing ill.
Page 80 - A time there was, ere England's griefs began, When every rood of ground maintain'd its man: For him light Labour spread her wholesome store, Just gave what life required, but gave no more; His best companions, innocence and health, And his best riches, ignorance of wealth.
Page 479 - Wouldst softly speak, and stroke my head and smile) Could those few pleasant hours again appear, Might one wish bring them, would I wish them here? I would not trust my heart — the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might.
Page 477 - But gladly, as the precept were her own: And, while that face renews my filial grief, Fancy shall weave a charm for my relief, Shall steep me in Elysian reverie, A momentary dream that thou art she. My mother! when I learned that thou wast dead, Say, wast thou conscious of the tears I shed? Hovered thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son, Wretch even then, life's journey just begun? Perhaps thou gavest me, though unfelt, a kiss: Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss — Ah, that maternal smile! it...
Page 476 - With me but roughly since I heard thee last. Those lips are thine — thy own sweet smile I see, The same that oft in childhood solaced me ; Voice only fails, else how distinct they say, " Grieve not, my child, chase all thy fears away!
Page 78 - Stern o'er each bosom reason holds her state, With daring aims irregularly great : Pride in their port, defiance in their eye, I see the lords of humankind pass by...
Page 480 - But no — what here we call our life is such, So little to be loved, and thou so much, That I should ill requite thee to constrain Thy unbound spirit into bonds again. Thou, as a gallant bark from Albion's coast, The storms all...