Sketches of Obscure Poets: With Specimens of Their Writings

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Cochrane, 1833 - English poetry - 208 pages

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Page 33 - inscription— The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit shall dissolve, And, like the baseless fabric of a vision, Leave not a wreck behind! Its beauty
Page 118 - Bless'd be the gracious Power who taught mankind To stamp a lasting image of the mind ! Beasts may convey, and tuneful birds may sing Their mutual feelings in the opening Spring; But man alone has skill and power to send The heart's warm dictates to the distant friend.
Page 126 - mind was all my store ; No anxious wishes e'er disturb'd my ease, Heav'n gave content and health—I ask'd no more. Now Spring returns, but not to me returns The vernal joy my better
Page 149 - Sure something more to thee is given Than myriads of the feather'd race ; Some gift divine, some spark from Heaven, That guides thy flight from place to place. Still freely come, still freely go, And blessings crown thy vigorous wing ; May thy rude flight meet no rude foe, Delightful messenger of Spring. The
Page 199 - I drove out the garterpin, which, being galled, prevented the press from working, and turned another square, which perfectly cured the press :—he said, in anger, ' If I had known, you should not have had it.' This proved for forty-two years my best binding-press.
Page 128 - lies. There let me sleep forgotten in the clay, When Death shall shut these weary aching eyes; Best in the hopes of an eternal day, Till the long night's gone, and the last morn arise!
Page 126 - road, Along the lovely paths of Spring to rove, And follow Nature up to Nature's God. ; Thus have I walk'd along the dewy lawn, My frequent foot the blooming wild hath worn ; Before the lark I
Page 126 - sung the beauteous dawn, And gather'd health from all the gales of morn. And ev'n when Winter chill'd the aged year, I wander'd lonely o'er the hoary plain; Tho' frosty Boreas warn'd me to forbear, Boreas with all his tempests warn'd in vain. Then, Sleep my nights, and Quiet bless'd my days ; I fear'd no
Page 123 - that he were alive, and that I were a great man, to have the luxury of visiting him there, and of bidding him be happy. I cannot carry my readers thither; but that they may share some of my feelings, I will present them with an extract from the last poem in the little volume before me, which, from
Page 122 - I never find myself in that spot, but I stop my horse involuntarily, and, looking on the window which the honeysuckle has now almost covered, in the dream of the moment I picture out a figure for the gentle tenant of the

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