Poems, Zväzok 1

Predný obal
J. Johnson, No. 72, St. Paul's Church Yard, 1786
 

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Strana 42 - 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 215 - He looks abroad into the varied field Of nature, and though poor, perhaps, compared With those whose mansions glitter in his sight, Calls the delightful scenery all his own.
Strana 135 - Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, And while the bubbling and loud hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
Strana 341 - His horse, who never in that sort Had handled been before, What thing upon his back had got Did wonder more and more.
Strana 43 - Slaves cannot breathe in England ; if their lungs 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 every vein Of all your empire ; that, where Britain's power Is felt, mankind may feel her mercy too.
Strana 347 - My head is twice as big as yours, They therefore needs must fit. "But let me scrape the dirt away That hangs upon your face; And stop and eat, for well you may Be in a hungry case.
Strana 342 - Were shattered at a blow. Down ran the wine into the road Most piteous to be seen, Which made his horse's flanks to smoke As they had basted been. But still he...
Strana 338 - For saddle-tree scarce reached had he, His journey to begin, When, turning round his head, he saw Three customers come in. So down he came ; for loss of time, Although it grieved him sore, Yet loss of pence, full well he knew, Would trouble him much more.
Strana 265 - One song employs all nations ; and all cry, " Worthy the Lamb, for He was slain for us ! " The dwellers in the vales and on the rocks Shout to each other, and the mountain tops From distant mountains catch the flying joy, Till, nation after nation taught the strain, Earth rolls the rapturous hosanna round.
Strana 202 - When one, that holds communion with the skies, Has filled his urn where these pure waters rise, And once more mingles with us meaner things, 'Tis e'en as if an angel shook his wings ; Immortal fragrance fills the circuit wide, That tells us whence his treasures are supplied.

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