The posthumous papers, facetious and fanciful, of a person lately about town

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U. Sams, 1828 - 304 strán (strany)
 

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Strana 174 - 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 249 - What things have we seen Done at the Mermaid! Heard words that have been So nimble and so full of subtle flame As if that every one from whence they came Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, And had resolved to live a fool the rest Of his dull life.
Strana 142 - Than those of age, thy forehead wrapp'd in clouds, A leafless branch thy sceptre, and thy throne A sliding car, indebted to no wheels, But urged by storms along its slippery way, I love thee, all unlovely as thou seem'st, And dreaded as thou art...
Strana 165 - Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds : Save that, from yonder ivy-mantled tower, The moping owl does to the Moon complain Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, Molest her ancient solitary reign.
Strana 116 - Dubius is such a scrupulous good man ! Yes, you may catch him tripping if you can. He would not with a peremptory tone Assert the nose upon his face his own ; With hesitation admirably slow He humbly hopes, presumes, it may be so.
Strana 62 - The immortal mind that hath forsook Her mansion in this fleshly nook...
Strana 266 - Sits on the horizon round a settled gloom : Not such as wintry storms on mortals shed, Oppressing life ; but lovely, gentle, kind, And full of every hope and every joy, The wish of nature. Gradual sinks the breeze Into a perfect calm ; that not a breath Is heard to quiver through the closing woods, Or rustling turn the many-twinkling leaves Of aspen tall.
Strana 148 - SWEET bird, that sing'st away the early hours Of winters past, or coming, void of care, Well pleased with delights which present are; Fair seasons, budding sprays, sweet-smelling flowers, To rocks, to springs, to rills, from leafy bowers, Thou thy Creator's goodness dost declare, And what dear gifts on thee he did not spare. A stain to human sense in sin that lowers. What soul can be so sick, which by thy songs...
Strana 161 - The sooty films that play upon the bars Pendulous, and foreboding, in the view Of superstition, prophesying still, Though still deceived, some stranger's near approach 'Tis thus the understanding takes repose In indolent vacuity of thought, And sleeps and is refresh'd. Meanwhile the face Conceals the mood lethargic with a mask Of deep deliberation, as the man Were task'd to his full strength, absorb'd and lost.
Strana 267 - The latent rill, scarce oozing through the grass, Of growth luxuriant; or the humid bank, In fair profusion, decks. Long let us walk, Where the breeze blows from yon extended field Of blossom'd beans. Arabia cannot boast A fuller gale of joy than, liberal, thence Breathes through the sense, and takes the ravish'd soul.

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