The Poetical Works of William Cowper

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Macmillan, 1879 - 536 strán (strany)
 

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Strana 24 - On for a closer walk with God ! A calm and heavenly frame ; A light to shine upon the road That leads me to the Lamb ! Where is the blessedness I knew When first I saw the Lord?
Strana 33 - 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 262 - 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. His are the mountains, and the valleys his, And the resplendent rivers. His to' enjoy With a propriety that none can feel, But who, with filial confidence inspired. Can lift to Heaven an unpresumptuous eye, And smiling say —
Strana 205 - I say the pulpit (in the sober use Of its legitimate, peculiar powers) Must stand acknowledged, while the world shall stand, The most important and effectual guard, Support and ornament of Virtue's cause. There stands the messenger of truth: there stands The legate of the skies! — His theme divine, His office sacred, his credentials clear. By him the violated law speaks out Its thunders ; and by him, in strains as sweet As angels use, the gospel whispers peace.
Strana 176 - Then the progeny that springs From the forests of our land, Armed with thunder, clad with wings, Shall a wider world command. 'Regions Caesar never knew Thy posterity shall sway, Where his eagles never flew, None invincible as they...
Strana 165 - 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 267 - I again perceive The soothing influence of the wafted strains, And settle in soft musings as I tread The walk, still verdant, under oaks and elms, Whose outspread branches overarch the glade. The roof...
Strana 346 - 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, She ran upon no rock. His sword was in its sheath, His fingers held the pen, When Kempenfelt went down With twice four hundred men.
Strana 306 - 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 ! 'Tis for a thousand pound!
Strana 217 - My panting side was charged, when I withdrew, To seek a tranquil death in distant shades. There was I found by one who had himself Been hurt by the archers.

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