The Poems of William Cowper

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Methuen, 1905 - 741 strán (strany)
 

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Strana 48 - His purposes will ripen fast, Unfolding every hour ; The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flower. Blind unbelief is sure to err,* And scan his work in vain : God is his own interpreter, And he will make it plain.
Strana 35 - 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 260 - 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 239 - 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 352 - Toll for the brave ! Brave Kempenfelt is gone ; His last sea-fight is fought ; His work of glory done. It was not in the battle ; No tempest gave the shock ; She sprang no fatal leak...
Strana 317 - JOHN GILPIN was a citizen Of credit and renown, A train-band captain eke was he Of famous London town. John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear, " Though wedded we have been These twice ten tedious years, yet we No holiday have seen. " To-morrow is our wedding-day, And we will then repair Unto the Bell at Edmonton, All in a chaise and pair. " My sister, and my sister's child, Myself, and children three, Will fill the chaise ; so you must ride On horseback after we.
Strana 305 - 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 219 - Nor rural sights alone, but rural sounds Exhilarate the spirit, and restore The tone of languid nature. Mighty winds, That sweep the skirt of some far-spreading wood Of ancient growth, make music not unlike The dash of Ocean on his winding shore...
Strana 194 - 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. But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair, Even here is a season of rest, And I to my cabin repair. There's mercy in every place, And mercy, encouraging thought ! Gives even affliction a grace, And reconciles man to his lot.
Strana 245 - Would I describe a preacher, such as Paul, Were he on earth, would hear, approve, and own — Paul should himself direct me. I would trace His master-strokes, and draw from his design. I would express him simple, grave, sincere; In doctrine uncorrupt ; in language plain, And plain in manner ; decent, solemn, chaste, And natural in gesture; much...

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