The Seasons: And The Castle of Indolence

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Clarendon Press, 1891 - 436 pages
 

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Page 274 - And, when the Sun begins to fling His flaring beams, me, Goddess, bring To arched walks of twilight groves, And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves, Of Pine, or monumental Oak, Where the rude Axe with heaved stroke Was never heard the Nymphs to daunt, Or fright them from their hallowed haunt.
Page 260 - Stand, never overlooked, our favourite elms, That screen the herdsman's solitary hut ; While far beyond, and overthwart the stream, That, as with molten glass, inlays the vale, The sloping land recedes into the clouds ; Displaying on its varied side the grace Of hedge-row beauties numberless, square tower, Tall spire, from which the sound of cheerful bells Just undulates upon the listening ear ; Groves, heaths, and smoking villages remote.
Page 183 - THESE, as they change, Almighty Father, these, Are but the varied God. The rolling year Is full of Thee. Forth in the pleasing Spring Thy beauty walks, Thy tenderness and love. Wide flush the fields ; the softening air is balm ; Echo the mountains round ; the forest smiles ; And every sense, and every heart, is joy.
Page 104 - Heavens ! what a goodly prospect spreads around, Of hills, and dales, and woods, and lawns, and spires, And glittering towns, and gilded streams, till all The stretching landscape into smoke decays...
Page 249 - As one who, long in populous city pent, Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air, Forth issuing on a summer's morn to breathe Among the pleasant villages and farms Adjoin'd, from each thing met conceives delight ; The smell of grain, or tedded grass, or kine, Or dairy, each rural sight, each rural sound...
Page 62 - Delightful task! to rear the tender thought, To teach the young idea how to shoot, To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind, To breathe the' enlivening spirit, and to fix The generous purpose in the glowing breast.
Page 185 - As home he goes beneath the joyous moon. Ye that keep watch in heaven, as earth asleep Unconscious lies, effuse your mildest beams; Ye constellations, while your angels strike, Amid the spangled sky, the silver lyre. Great source of day ! best image here below Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide, From world to world, the vital ocean round, On nature write with every beam his praise.
Page 186 - tis nought to me: Since GOD is ever present, ever felt, In the void waste as in the city full; And where he vital breathes there must be joy.
Page 153 - SEE, WINTER comes, to rule the varied year, Sullen and sad, with all his rising train ; Vapours and Clouds and Storms. Be these my theme, These ! that exalt the soul to solemn thought, And heavenly musing. Welcome, kindred glooms, Congenial horrors, hail ! with frequent foot...
Page 161 - In vain for him th' officious wife prepares The fire fair-blazing, and the vestment warm ; In vain his little children, peeping out Into the mingling storm, demand their sire, With tears of artless innocence. Alas ! Nor wife, nor children, more shall he behold; Nor friends, nor sacred home.

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