The Pleasures of Memory, with Other Poems

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T. Cadell, jun. and W. Davies, in the Strand., 1799 - 188 oldal

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176. oldal - MINE be a cot beside the hill, A bee-hive's hum shall soothe my ear , A willowy brook, that turns a mill, With many a fall, shall linger near. The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch Shall twitter from her clay-built nest ; Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch, And share my meal, a welcome guest.
176. oldal - A bee-hive's hum shall soothe my ear; A willowy brook that turns a mill, With many a fall shall linger near. The swallow oft beneath my thatch Shall twitter from her clay-built nest ; Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch, And share my meal, a welcome guest. Around my ivied porch shall spring Each fragrant flower that drinks the dew ; And Lucy at her wheel shall sing In russet gown and apron blue. The village church among the trees, Where first our marriage-vows were given, With merry peals shall...
54. oldal - And as the sparks of social love expand, As the heart opens in a foreign land ; And, with a brother's warmth, a brother's smile, The stranger greets each native of his isle...
161. oldal - That very law* which moulds a tear, And bids it trickle from its source, That law preserves the earth a sphere, And guides the planets in their course.
21. oldal - PROSPERO'S mysterious spell Drew every subject-spirit to his cell; Each, at thy call, advances or retires, As judgment dictates, or the scene inspires. Each thrills the seat of sense, that sacred source Whence the fine nerves direct their mazy course, And thro...
87. oldal - Ghent, and, after stopping there a few days, to indulge that tender and pleasing melancholy which arises in the mind of every man in the decline of life on visiting the place of his nativity and viewing the scenes and objects familiar to him in his early youth...
157. oldal - ... shore, As all its lessening turrets bluely fade ; He climbs the mast to feast his eye once more, And busy fancy fondly lends her aid. Ah ! now, each dear, domestic scene he knew...
161. oldal - Sweet drop of pure and pearly light! In thee the rays of Virtue shine ; More calmly clear, more mildly bright, Than any gem that gilds the mine.
20. oldal - Lull'd in the countless chambers of the brain, Our thoughts are link'd by many a hidden chain. Awake but one, and lo, what myriads rise ! Each stamps its image as the other flies.
95. oldal - HENCE, to the realms of Night, dire Demon, hence ! Thy chain of adamant can bind That little world, the human mind, And sink its noblest powers to impotence. Wake the lion's loudest roar, Clot his shaggy mane with gore, With flashing fury bid his eye-balls shine ; Meek is his savage, sullen soul, to thine ! Thy touch, thy deadening touch has steeled the breast, Whence, thro...

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