The Works of William Cowper, Volume 6

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H. G. Bohn, 1854
 

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Page 233 - With all her crew complete. Toll for the brave ! Brave Kempenfelt is gone; His last sea-fight is fought, His work of glory done. It was not in the battle; No tempest gave the shock; She sprang no fatal leak, She ran upon no rock. His sword was in its sheath, His fingers held the pen, When Kempenfelt went down With twice four hundred men.
Page 190 - The wind did blow, the cloak did fly, Like streamer long and gay, Till, loop and button failing both, At last it flew away. Then might all people well discern The bottles he had slung ; A bottle swinging at each side, As hath been said or sung. The dogs did bark, the children screamed, Up flew the windows all; And every soul cried out, Well done!
Page 308 - At length, his transient respite past, His comrades, who before Had heard his voice in every blast. Could catch the sound no more : For then, by toil subdued, he drank The stifling wave, and then he sank. No poet wept him ; but the page Of narrative sincere, That tells his name, his worth, his age, Is wet with Anson's tear ; And tears by bards or heroes shed Alike immortalize the dead. I therefore purpose not, or dream, Descanting on his fate, To give the melancholy theme A more enduring date :...
Page 28 - I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd.
Page 83 - Now came still Evening on, and Twilight gray had in her sober livery all things clad : Silence accompanied ; for Beast and Bird, they to their grassy couch, these to their nests, were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale; she, all night long, her amorous descant sung; Silence was pleased. Now...
Page 291 - That ere through age or woe I shed my wings I may record thy worth with honour due, In verse as musical as thou art true, And that immortalizes whom it sings: But thou hast little need. There is a Book By seraphs writ with beams of heavenly light, On which the eyes of God not rarely look, A chronicle of actions just and bright There all thy deeds, my faithful Mary, shine; And since thou own'st that praise, I spare thee mine.
Page 285 - My boast is not that I deduce my birth From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth ; But higher far my proud pretensions rise, The son of parents passed into the skies.
Page 148 - One song employs all nations; and all cry, ' Worthy the Lamb, for he was slain for us!' The dwellers in the vales and on the rocks Shout to each other, and the mountain tops From distant mountains catch the flying joy; Till, nation after nation taught the strain, Earth rolls the rapturous Hosanna round.
Page 76 - Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, And while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups, That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
Page 142 - And taught a brute the way to safe revenge. i would not enter on my list of friends (Though graced with polished manners and fine sense, * Yet wanting sensibility) the man Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.

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