The poetical works of William Cowper, Zväzok 1

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J. Nichol, 1854
 

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Strana 208 - OH for a lodge in some vast wilderness, Some boundless contiguity of shade, Where rumour of oppression and deceit, Of unsuccessful or successful war Might never reach me more ! My ear is pained, My soul is sick with every day's report Of wrong and outrage with which earth is filled.
Strana 389 - How fleet is a glance of the mind! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there; But alas! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair.
Strana 399 - So stooping down from hawthorn top, He thought to put him in his crop. The worm, aware of his intent, Harangued him thus, right eloquent — " Did you admire my lamp," quoth he, ' As much as I your minstrelsy, ' You would abhor to do me wrong, ' As much as I to spoil your song ; ' For 'twas the self-same Power divine, ' Taught you to sing, and me to shine ; ' That you with music, I with light, ' Might beautify and cheer the night.
Strana 209 - 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.
Strana 388 - I AM monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute ; From the centre all round to the sea I am lord of the fowl and the brute. 0 Solitude ! where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face ? Better dwell in the midst of alarms Than reign in this horrible place.
Strana 178 - Nor those of learn'd philologists, who chase A panting syllable through time and space, Start it at home, and hunt it in the dark, To Gaul, to Greece, and into Noah's ark ; But such as learning, without false pretence, The friend of truth, the associate of sound sense.
Strana 209 - Lands intersected by a narrow frith Abhor each other. Mountains interposed Make enemies of nations, who had else Like kindred drops been mingled into one.
Strana 189 - Here Ouse, slow winding through a level plain Of spacious meads with cattle sprinkled o'er, Conducts the eye along his sinuous course Delighted.
Strana 209 - Receive our air, that moment they are free, They touch our country and their shackles fall. That's noble, and bespeaks a nation proud And jealous of the blessing. Spread it then, And let it circulate through ev'ry vein Of all your empire ; that where Britain's power Is felt, mankind may feel her mercy too.
Strana 352 - Though mangled, hack'd and hew'd, not yet destroy'd, The little ones unbutton'd, glowing hot, Playing our games, and on the very spot, As happy as we once, to kneel and draw The chalky ring, and knuckle down at taw...

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