The British Poets: Including Translations ...

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C. Whittingham, 1822 - English poetry

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Page 208 - But see! thewell-plum'dherse comes nodding on, Stately and slow; and properly attended By the whole sable tribe, that painful watch The sick man's door, and live upon the dead, By letting out their persons by the hour To mimic sorrow, when the heart's not sad.
Page 216 - Our time is fix'd, and all our days are number'd; How long, how short, we know not: this we know, Duty requires we calmly wait the summons, Nor dare to stir till Heaven shall give permission; Like sentries that must keep their destined stand, And wait th' appointed hour, till they're relieved.
Page 37 - The glassy ocean hush'd forgets to roar, But trembling murmurs on the sandy shore: And lo! his surface, lovely to behold! Glows in the west a sea of living gold! While, all above, a thousand liveries gay The skies with pomp ineffable array. Arabian sweets perfume the happy plains; Above, beneath, around enchantment reigns!
Page 95 - Attic shores the vessel keeps : The pilots, as the waves behind her swell, Still with the wheeling stern their force repel. For this assault should either quarter feel, Again to flank the tempest she might reel. The steersmen every bidden turn apply ; To right and left the spokes alternate fly. Thus when some conquer'd host retreats in fear, The bravest leaders guard the broken rear ; Indignant they retire, and long oppose Superior armies that around them close ; Still shield the flanks ; the routed...
Page 209 - The oppressive, sturdy, man-destroying villains Who ravaged kingdoms, and laid empires waste, And in a cruel wantonness of power Thinn'd states of half their people, and gave up To want the rest; now, like a storm that's spent, Lie hush'd, and meanly sneak behind the covert.
Page 224 - How calm his exit! Night-dews fall not more gently to the ground, Nor weary worn-out winds expire so soft. Behold him in the evening tide of life, A life well spent, whose early care it was His riper years should not upbraid his green; By unperceived degrees he wears away ; Yet, like the sun, seems larger at his setting!
Page 42 - The artillery frown'd, a black tremendous tier ! Embalm'd with orient gum, above the wave The swelling sides a yellow radiance gave. On the broad stern, a pencil warm and bold, That never servile rules of art controll'd, An allegoric tale on high...
Page 57 - Who from the reigning cause foretells the effect, This barbarous practice ever will reject; For, fluttering loose in air, the rigid sail Soon flits to ruins in the furious gale; And he, who strives the tempest to disarm, Will never first embrail the lee yard-arm.
Page 214 - How shocking must thy summons be, O Death ! To him that is at ease in his possessions! Who counting on long years of pleasure here, Is quite unfurnish'd for the world to come ! In that dread moment, how the frantic soul Raves round the walls of her clay tenement; Runs to each avenue, and shrieks for help; But shrieks in vain ! How wishfully she looks On all she's leaving, now no longer hers!
Page 29 - Augusta's spires are seen, With flowery lawns and waving woods between, A peaceful dwelling stands in modest pride, Where Thames, slow winding, rolls his ample tide. There live the hope and pleasure of his life, A pious daughter, and a faithful wife. For his return with fond officious care...

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