The Poetical Works of William CowperH. G. Bohn, 1864 - 516 strán (strany) |
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Výsledky 1 - 5 z 100.
Strana 4
... dear feet , [ grant In Afric's torrid clime or India's fiercest heat . A. Sing where you please ; in such a cause I An English poet's privilege to rant . But is not freedom , at least is not ours , Too apt to play the wanton with her ...
... dear feet , [ grant In Afric's torrid clime or India's fiercest heat . A. Sing where you please ; in such a cause I An English poet's privilege to rant . But is not freedom , at least is not ours , Too apt to play the wanton with her ...
Strana 6
... dear , If sentiment were sacrificed to sound , And truth cut short to make a period round , I judged a man of sense could scarce do worse Than caper in the morris - dance of verse . B. Thus reputation is a spur to wit , And some wits ...
... dear , If sentiment were sacrificed to sound , And truth cut short to make a period round , I judged a man of sense could scarce do worse Than caper in the morris - dance of verse . B. Thus reputation is a spur to wit , And some wits ...
Strana 9
... dear pleasures of the velvet plain ! The painted tablets , dealt and dealt again . Cards with what rapture , and the polish'd die , The yawning chasm of indolence supply ! Then to the dance , and make the sober moon Witness of joys that ...
... dear pleasures of the velvet plain ! The painted tablets , dealt and dealt again . Cards with what rapture , and the polish'd die , The yawning chasm of indolence supply ! Then to the dance , and make the sober moon Witness of joys that ...
Strana 16
... dear hour , that brought me to thy foot , And cut up all my follies by the root , I never trusted in an arm but thine , Nor hoped but in thy righteousness divine : My prayers and alms , imperfect and defiled , Were but the feeble ...
... dear hour , that brought me to thy foot , And cut up all my follies by the root , I never trusted in an arm but thine , Nor hoped but in thy righteousness divine : My prayers and alms , imperfect and defiled , Were but the feeble ...
Strana 22
... dear society be worth a thought , And if the feast of freedom cloy thee not , Reflect that these and all that seems thine own , Held by the tenure of his will alone , Like angels in the service of their Lord , Remain with thee , or ...
... dear society be worth a thought , And if the feast of freedom cloy thee not , Reflect that these and all that seems thine own , Held by the tenure of his will alone , Like angels in the service of their Lord , Remain with thee , or ...
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Časté výrazy a frázy
beauty beneath bids bird blooming groves boast breast breath call'd catch a fire charms dear delight design'd divine dream earth ease eyes fair fame fancy fear feel flowers folly form'd frown fruit give glory grace hand happy hast hear heart heaven honour hope labour land light live Lord lost lyre mercy midnight oil mind Muse nature Nebaioth never nymph o'er once pain peace PINE APPLE pleasure poet praise prayer press'd prize prove rest rude scene scenes as fair scorn seek seem'd shine sighs sight silent silent tongue skies smile song soon sorrow soul sound spleen stream sweet taste thee theme thine thou art thought thousand toil truth Twas ultrà vex'd VINCENT BOURNE virtue voice waste WILLIAM COWPER wind wisdom wise wonder worth YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY youth
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Strana 109 - Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head.
Strana 42 - 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 101 - So shall my walk be close with God, Calm and serene my frame ; So purer light shall mark the road That leads me to the Lamb.
Strana 52 - Slaves cannot breathe in England; if their lungs Receive our air, that moment they are free, They touch our country and their shackles fall.
Strana 133 - That thought is joy, arrive what may to me. 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.
Strana 139 - Thy indistinct expressions seem Like language utter'd in a dream ; Yet me they charm, whate'er the theme, My Mary! Thy silver locks, once auburn bright, Are still more lovely in my sight Than golden beams of orient light, My Mary ! For, could I view nor them nor thee, What sight worth seeing could I see ? The sun would rise in vain for me, My Mary ! Partakers of thy sad decline, Thy hands their little force resign ; Yet gently prest, press gently mine, My Mary!
Strana 42 - Ye winds that have made me your sport. Convey to this desolate shore Some cordial endearing report Of a land I shall visit no more : My friends, do they now and then send A wish or a thought after me ? O tell me I yet have a friend, Though a friend I am never to see.
Strana 108 - The hand that gave it, still supplies The gracious light and heat ; His truths upon the nations rise, They rise, but never set. 4 Let everlasting thanks be thine, For such a bright display, As makes a world of darkness shine With beams of heavenly day.
Strana 133 - Could Time, his flight reversed, restore the hours, When, playing with thy vesture's tissued flowers, The violet, the pink, and jessamine, I pricked them into paper with a pin (And thou wast happier than myself the while, Wouldst softly speak, and stroke my head, and smile) ; Could those few pleasant days again appear, Might one wish bring them, would I wish them here?
Strana 80 - Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit, And loved a timely joke ; And thus unto the calender In merry guise he spoke : I came because your horse would come ; And, if I well forebode, My hat and wig will soon be here — They are upon the road.