The Works of William Cowper: Table talk. The task. Tirocinium; or, A review of schools. Miscellaneous poems

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Fraser & Company, 1835
 

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Page 335 - I AM monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute; From the centre all round to the sea, I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
Page 500 - OH ! for a closer walk with God ; A calm and heavenly frame ; A light to shine upon the road That leads me to the Lamb...
Page 501 - So shall my walk be close with God, Calm and serene my frame; So purer light shall mark the road That leads me to the Lamb.
Page 435 - Affectionate, a mother lost so long. 1 will obey, not willingly alone, But gladly, as the precept were her own : And, while that face renews my filial grief, Fancy shall wave a charm for my relief, Shall steep me in Elysian reverie, A momentary dream, that thou art she.
Page 383 - 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. My sister, and my sister's child, Myself, and children three, Will fill the chaise ; so you must ride On horseback after we.
Page 491 - The hand that gave it still supplies The gracious light and heat : His truths upon the nations rise, They rise, but never set.
Page 487 - FAR from the world, O Lord, I flee, From strife and tumult far; From scenes where Satan wages still His most successful war. The calm retreat, the silent shade, With prayer and praise agree ; And seem by thy sweet bounty made For those who follow thee.
Page 487 - E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream Thy flowing wounds supply, Redeeming love has been my theme, And shall be till I die.
Page 487 - THERE is a fountain filled with blood, Drawn from Immanuel's veins, And sinners, plunged beneath that flood, Lose all their guilty stains. The dying thief rejoiced to see That fountain in his day ; And there have I, as vile as he, Washed all my sins away.
Page 189 - FOB a lodge in some vast wilderness, Some boundless contiguity of shade, Where rumour of oppression and deceit, Of unsuccessful or successful war, Might never reach me more.

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