The Poetical Register, and Repository of Fugitive Poetry for ..., Volume 8

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F. and C. Rivington, 1814
 

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Page 12 - Where the great Sun begins his state Robed in flames and amber light, The clouds in thousand liveries dight; While the ploughman, near at hand, Whistles o'er the furrowed land, And the milkmaid singeth blithe, And the mower whets his scythe, And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Page 14 - Then to come in spite of sorrow, And at my window bid good morrow, Through the Sweet-Briar, or the Vine, Or the twisted Eglantine...
Page 296 - With bowed soul, full well ye ken the day Which week, smooth sliding after week, brings on Too soon ; — for to that day nor peace belongs Nor comfort ; — ere the first gray streak of dawn, The red-armed washers come and chase repose.
Page 476 - THE .LAWYER'S FAREWELL TO HIS MUSE. As, by some tyrant's stern command, A wretch forsakes his native land, In foreign climes condemn'd to roam An endless exile from his home...
Page 232 - All hushed was the billows' commotion, — And I thought that the light-house looked lovely as hope, That star of life's tremulous ocean. The time is long past, and the scene is afar, Yet when my head rests on its pillow, Will memory sometimes rekindle the star That blazed on the breast of the billow. In life's closing hour, when the trembling soul flies, And death stills the heart's last emotion, O, then may the seraph of mercy arise, Like a star on eternity's ocean ! ANON.
Page 264 - And the Lord said unto him, This is the land which I sware unto Abraham, unto Isaac, and unto Jacob, saying I will give it unto thy seed: I have caused thee to see it with thine eyes, but thou shalt not go over thither.
Page 478 - Then welcome business, welcome strife, Welcome the cares, the thorns of life, The visage wan, the pore-blind sight, The toil by day, the lamp at night, The tedious forms, the solemn prate, The pert dispute, the dull debate, The drowsy bench, the babbling hall, For thee, fair Justice, welcome all...
Page 232 - On the shadowy wave's playful motion, From the dim distant isle till the beacon fire blazed Like a star in the midst of the ocean.
Page 91 - ... lovely pale— Or peace to man, or judgments dire, Stranger of heaven, I bid thee hail ! Where hast thou roamed these thousand years ? Why sought these polar paths again, From wilderness of glowing spheres, To fling thy vesture o'er the wain?
Page 14 - It must not be omitted, that the groves near this village are famous for nightingales, which are so elegantly described in the Pensieroso.

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