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Part ii. xxxvi.
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
Part iii. v.
Walton's Book of Lives.
The feather, whence the pen
Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men, Dropped from an Angel's wing.
Meek Walton's heavenly memory.
The Tables Turned.
Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books,
Or surely you 'll grow
Up! up! my Friend, and clear
One impulse from a vernal wood
Of moral evil and of good,
Than all the sages can.
The Matron of Jedborough.
A remnant of uneasy light.
Sky Prospect. From the Plains of France. Meek Nature's evening comment on the shows,
That for oblivion take their daily birth
From all the fuming vanities of Earth.
A Poet's Epitaph.
One that would peep and botanize
He murmurs near the running brooks
The harvest of a quiet eye,
That broods and sleeps on his own heart.
Maidens withering on the stalk.
The gentle Lady married to the Moor,
Blessings be with them, and eternal praise,
The Small Celandine.
[From Poems referring to the Period of Old Age.]
To be a Prodigal's Favorite, — then, worse truth, behold our lot!
A Miser's Pensioner,
To the Small Celandine.
[From Poems of the Fancy.]
Elegiac Stanzas suggested by a Picture of Peele Castle in a Storm. St. 4.
The light that never was, on sea or land,
Epitaphs and Elegiac Pieces.
But hushed be every thought that springs
Intimations of Immortality.
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.
But trailing clouds of glory, do we come
To me the meanest flower that blows can give
The vision and the faculty divine.
The imperfect offices of prayer and praise.
The good die first,
And they whose hearts are dry as summer dust
This dull product of a scoffer's pen.
With battlements, that on their restless fronts
Wrongs unredressed, or insults unavenged.
Monastic brotherhood, upon rock
The intellectual power, through words and things
Society became my glittering bride,
* Three sleepless nights I passed in sounding on, Through words and things, a dim and perilous way. The Borderers, Act iv.
There is a luxury in self-dispraise;
I have seen
A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract
One in whom persuasion and belief Had ripened into faith, and faith become A passionate intuition.
Spires whose silent fingers point to heaven.
A man he seems of cheerful yesterdays
Wisdom married to immortal verse.
The primal duties shine aloft, like stars;