The British Poets, Volume 4

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Little, Brown & Company, 1866
 

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Page 94 - The country rings around with loud alarms, And raw in fields the rude militia swarms; Mouths without hands; maintained at vast expense, In peace a charge, in war a weak defence ; Stout once a month they march, a blustering band, And ever, but in times of need, at hand...
Page 290 - But suffer inmate souls secure to dwell, Lest from their seats your parents you expel ; With rabid hunger feed upon your kind, Or from a beast dislodge a brother's mind.
Page 121 - Thus cursed steel, and more accursed gold, Gave mischief birth, and made that mischief bold : And double death did wretched man invade, By steel assaulted, and by gold betray'd.
Page 37 - His preaching much, but more his practice wrought; (A living sermon of the truths he taught); For this by rules severe his life he squared, That all might see the doctrine which they heard.
Page 22 - Lonely the vale, and full of horror stood, Brown with the shade of a religious wood! When full before him, at the noon of night, (The moon was up, and shot a gleamy light) He saw a quire of ladies in a round That featly footing seem'd to skim the ground: Thus dancing hand in hand, so light they were, He knew not where they trod, on earth or air.
Page 118 - A creature of a more exalted kind Was wanting yet, and then was Man design'd : Conscious of thought, of more capacious breast, For empire form'd, and fit to rule the rest...
Page 58 - This law, though custom now diverts the course, As nature's institute, is yet in force ; Uncancell'd, though disused ; and he, whose mind Is virtuous, is alone of noble kind ; Though poor in fortune, of celestial race ; And he commits the crime who calls him base.
Page 150 - She wreaks her anger on her rival's head; With Furies frights her from her native home ; And drives her gadding, round the world to roam : Nor ceas'd her madness, and her flight, before She touch'd the limits of the Pharian shore.
Page 83 - The fanning wind upon her bosom blows ; To meet the fanning wind the bosom rose ; The fanning wind and purling streams continue her repose.

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