Bell's Classical Arrangement of Fugitive Poetry ...

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J. Bell, 1789
 

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Page 149 - How small , of all that human hearts endure , That part which laws or kings can cause or cure.
Page 136 - Basks in the glare, or stems the tepid wave, And thanks his gods for all the good they gave. Such is the patriot's boast where'er we roam, His first, best country, ever is at home. And yet, perhaps, if countries we compare, And estimate the blessings which they share, Though patriots flatter, still shall wisdom find An equal portion dealt to all mankind ; As different good, by art or nature given To different nations, makes their blessings even.
Page 148 - E'en now, perhaps, as there some pilgrim strays Through tangled forests, and through dangerous ways, [23] Where beasts with man divided empire claim, And the brown Indian marks with murderous aim; There, while above the giddy tempest flies, And all around distressful yells arise, The pensive exile, bending with his woe, To stop too fearful, and too faint to go, Casts a long look where England's glories shine, And bids his bosom sympathize with mine. Vain, very vain, my weary search to find That bliss...
Page 134 - Where all the ruddy family around Laugh at the jests or pranks that never fail, Or sigh with pity at some mournful tale, Or press the bashful stranger to his food, And learn the luxury of doing good.
Page 140 - Though poor the peasant's hut, his feasts though small, He sees his little lot the lot of all ; Sees no contiguous palace rear its head, To shame the meanness of his humble shed...
Page 145 - Stern o'er each bosom reason holds her state, With daring aims irregularly great. Pride in their port, defiance in their eye, I see the lords of human kind pass by, Intent on high designs a thoughtful band, By forms unfashion'd, fresh from Nature's hand, Fierce in their native hardiness of soul, True to imagin'd- right, above control; While even the peasant boasts these rights to scan, And learns to venerate himself as man.
Page 147 - Till half a patriot, half a coward grown, I fly from petty tyrants to the throne.
Page 134 - E'en now, where Alpine solitudes ascend, I sit me down a pensive hour to spend ; And placed on high, above the storm's career, Look downward where a hundred realms appear ; Lakes, forests, cities, plains extending wide, The pomp of kings, the shepherd's humbler pride. When thus creation's charms around combine, Amidst the store, should thankless pride repine? Say, should the philosophic mind disdain That good which makes each humbler bosom vain .' Let school-taught pride dissemble all it can, These...
Page 142 - With tuneless pipe, beside the murmuring Loire? Where shading elms along the margin grew, And freshen'd from the wave the zephyr flew...
Page 140 - At night returning, every labour sped, He sits him down the monarch of a shed ; Smiles by his cheerful fire, and round surveys His children's looks, that brighten at the blaze ; While his lov'd partner, boastful of her hoard, Displays her cleanly platter on the board: And haply too some pilgrim, thither led, With many a tale repays the nightly bed.

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