The poetical works of William Cowper [ed.] with prefatory notice by E. Hope

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Page 322 - Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take ; The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head.
Page 163 - JOHN GILPIN was a citizen Of credit and renown, A trainband captain eke was he Of famous London town. John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear, Though wedded we have been These twice ten tedious years, yet we No holiday have seen. To-morrow is our wedding day, And we will then repair Unto the Bell at Edmonton All in a chaise and pair.
Page 104 - Nor rural sights alone, but rural sounds Exhilarate the spirit, and restore The tone of languid nature. Mighty winds, That sweep the skirt of some far-spreading wood Of ancient growth, make music not unlike The dash of Ocean on his winding shore...
Page 209 - Thy nightly visits to my chamber made, That thou might'st know me safe and warmly laid ; Thy morning bounties ere I left my home, The biscuit, or confectionary plum...
Page 186 - His sword was in its sheath, His fingers held the pen, When Kempenfelt went down With twice four hundred men.
Page 25 - 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 the archers. In his side he bore And in his hands and feet the cruel scars. With gentle force soliciting the darts He drew them forth, and healed and bade me live.
Page 210 - My boast is not, that I deduce my birth From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth : But higher far my proud pretensions rise — The son of parents pass'd into the skies.
Page 170 - And galloped off with all his might, As he had done before. Away went Gilpin, and away Went Gilpin's hat and wig: He lost them sooner than at first, For why? — they were too big. Now...
Page 323 - Where is the blessedness I knew When first I saw the Lord? Where is the soul-refreshing view Of Jesus and his word? 3 What peaceful hours I once enjoyed ! How sweet their memory still ! But they have left an aching void The world can never fill.
Page 234 - And the scene where his melody charm'd me before Resounds with his sweet-flowing ditty no more. My fugitive years are all hasting away, And I must ere long lie as lowly as they, With a turf on my breast, and a stone at my head, Ere another such grove shall arise in its stead.

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