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Page 198 - Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease, Seats of my youth, when every sport could please, How often have I loitered o'er thy green, Where humble happiness endear'd each scene ! How often have I paused on every charm...
Page 198 - The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, The playful children just let loose from school. The watchdog's voice that bayed the whispering wind, And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind ; — These all in sweet confusion sought the shade, And filled each pause the nightingale had made.
Page 206 - Netherby gate, The bride had consented, the gallant came late; For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall, Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all.
Page 206 - mong Graemes of the Netherby clan ; Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran : There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see.
Page 222 - tis slander, Whose edge is sharper than the sword ; whose tongue Outvenoms all the worms of Nile ; whose breath Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie All corners of the world : kings, queens, and states, Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave This viperous slander enters.
Page 200 - Awaits alike th' inevitable hour: The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to These the fault, If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.
Page 213 - Aonian maids, Delight no more — O thou my voice inspire Who touch'd Isaiah's hallow'd lips with fire ! Rapt into future times, the Bard begun : A Virgin shall conceive, a Virgin bear a Son...
Page 208 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Page 28 - By degrees we let fall the remembrance of our original intention, and quit the only adequate object of rational desire. We entangle ourselves in business, immerge ourselves in luxury, and rove through the labyrinths of inconstancy, till the darkness of old age begins to invade us, and disease and anxiety obstruct our way. We then look back upon our lives with horror, with sorrow, with repentance ; and wish, but too often vainly wish, that we had not forsaken the ways of virtue.