The poetical works of William Cowper, ed. by W.M. Rossetti

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Strana 331 - Well done!" As loud as he could bawl. Away went Gilpin — who but he? His fame soon spread around; "He carries weight!" "He rides a race!
Strana 333 - And thus unto the youth she said That drove them to the Bell, This shall be yours when you bring back My husband safe and well. The youth did ride, and soon did meet John coming back amain, Whom in a trice he tried to stop By catching at his rein. But not performing what he meant, And gladly would have done, The frighted steed he frighted more, And made him faster run.
Strana 332 - Until he came unto the Wash Of Edmonton so gay ; And there he threw the Wash about, On both sides of the way, Just like unto a trundling mop, Or a wild goose at play. At Edmonton his loving wife From the balcony spied Her tender husband, wondering much To see how he did ride. " Stop, stop, John Gilpin ! Here's the house!" They all at once did cry ; "The dinner waits and we are tired.
Strana 278 - HARK, my soul, it is the Lord; 'tis thy Saviour, hear his word; Jesus speaks, and speaks to thee, 'Say, poor sinner, lov'st thou me?
Strana 276 - Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood Shall never lose its power, Till all the ransomed Church of God Be saved, to sin no more.
Strana 205 - The sum is this : if man's convenience, health, Or safety interfere, his rights and claims Are paramount, and must extinguish theirs. Else they are all — the meanest things that are— As free to live, and to enjoy that life, As God was free to form them at the first, Who in His sovereign wisdom made them all.
Strana 323 - Sage beneath the spreading oak Sat the Druid, hoary chief; Every burning word he spoke Full of rage and full of grief. Princess ! if our aged eyes Weep upon thy matchless wrongs, 'Tis because resentment ties All the terrors of our tongues.
Strana 313 - Tis here the folly of the wise Through all his art we view, And while his tongue the charge denies, His conscience owns it true. Bound on a voyage of awful length And dangers little known, A stranger to superior strength, Man vainly trusts his own. But oars alone can ne'er prevail To reach the distant coast, The breath of heaven must swell the sail, Or all the toil is lost.
Strana 120 - Nor less composure waits upon the roar Of distant floods, or on the softer voice Of neighbouring fountain, or of rills that slip Through the cleft rock, and chiming as they fall Upon loose pebbles, lose themselves at length In matted grass, that with a livelier green Betrays the secret of their silent course.
Strana 356 - Now wantoned lost in flags and reeds, Now starting into sight, Pursued the swallow o'er the meads With scarce a slower flight. It was the time when Ouse displayed His lilies newly blown; Their beauties I intent surveyed, And one I wished my own.

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