What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
affectation Apollo AUTHOR Bard bear brain bring charms common critic dame Delos doubt dull eaſe eaſy ev'ry eyes face fair fame fancy fear feel fire firſt foes folks fool genius give grace half hand hate head hear heart hope hour keep kind king learned letters light live look mean mighty mind moſt muſe muſt nature never o'er once pain perhaps pleaſe poet poet's poor pow'r praiſe pride proſe rhime rhyme riſe round ſay ſee ſenſe ſhall ſhe ſhould ſmile ſome ſoul ſound ſpeak ſtill ſtrong ſuch ſure talk taſte tell thee theſe things thoſe thou thought thouſand throne true turn uſe verſe virtues walk Whoſe wife winds wiſe wiſh woes wond'rous write
Page 202 - Here rests his head upon the lap of earth A youth, to fortune and to fame unknown: Fair science frown'd not on his humble birth, And melancholy mark'd him for her own. Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere...
Page 198 - 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 190 - Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the Poor. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave Await alike th' inevitable hour : — The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Page 192 - Rich with the fpoils of time did ne'er unroll ; Chill Penury reprefs'd their noble rage, And froze the genial current of the foul.
Page 188 - Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, , The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
Page 188 - The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Page 196 - Ev'n in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who mindful of th...
Page 186 - And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...